Anything, But The Truth
by purplepagoda
Summary: Tony and Ziva go undercover as a married couple, indefinitely. What could possibly go wrong? Sharing a bed, and a life, until they solve this case? How complicated could it get? Will they cross that line? Reach a point of no return?
1. Erased

She stares at her reflection in the mirror. Everyone seemed to be making bad calls lately, and she was beginning to question how this was going to end. She couldn't believe that someone would make this decision. She could not believe that she had agreed, that they had both agreed. A voice brings her back into reality.

"How long are you going to stand there?" he questions.

"Until you're finished."

He steps away from the urinal, and moves towards her. He washes his hands, never taking his eyes off of her.

"Are you sure that you are up for this?" he questions.

"I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

"The director is trying to get rid of me, not you. You don't have to put yourself in his way."

"You would do the same."

_Just minutes earlier they had been called into director Vance's office. He stares at the two of them, from behind his desk._

_"What is this about?" Tony questions._

_"I am going to give you a chance to redeem yourself," he reveals._

_"Redeem myself? I didn't do anything wrong. You are the one who asked for my badge. If anyone should be redeeming themselves, it's you," Tony argues._

_"Regardless, I have an opportunity, for the two of you."_

_"What opportunity?" she inquires._

_"NCIS has been looking for a pair of capable agents to go undercover."_

_"Doing what?" Tony raises an eyebrow._

_"Investigating. It seems that there have been a string of suspicious deaths, at a naval air station. I need the two of you two to investigate."_

_"Why do we have to go undercover?"_

_"You will be undercover for weeks, maybe even months. You will both work at the Naval Air station."_

_"Why the two of us?" Tony queries._

_"You are the most realistic couple," Vance reveals._

_"Couple?" Ziva wonders._

_"Yes, the two of you will be posing as a married couple."_

_"Is it somewhere warm, at least?" Tony quizzes._

_"Florida," Vance replies._

_"I'm in," Tony agrees._

_"Agent David?"_

_She looks at Tony. With reservations she answers, "Ok."_

_"Pack your bags your flight leaves at 1700."_

He lets her have the window seat. She watches as airline workers load luggage onto the plane.

"We should get all of our ducks in a row," she comments.

"What do you mean?"

She turns, and looks at him, "That is the expression, isn't it?"

"Yes, I'm just not sure what you're referring to."

"Well, Grayson, we should get our past in order," she replies.

"Of course, Sarina."

"Like how did we meet?"

"At work," Tony insists.

"And how long did we date, before we got married?"

"Dated three months, got engaged, were married three months later?"

"Six months?" she questions.

"It was love at first sight," he teases.

"It was something," she mutters.

"So is the ring big enough?"

She stares at the rings on her fingers, "Big enough, or fake enough?"

"The bands are real."

"The diamonds aren't."

"I am sorry. Vance is the one who provided them."

"I have a bad feeling about this."

"Why?" he wonders.

"Because our entire identities were erased, so that no one finds out who we really are. That doesn't concern you?"

"Of course it does, but I am trying not to think about it. Right now I am just trying to figure out how to convince people that we are married."

"For better or worse, you are my partner, we will make it work."

"Zi... Sarina, what happens, if this goes badly?"

"We both lose our jobs."

"And our identities," he adds.

"You are not happy with being Commander Grayson Archwood?"

"I haven't decided yet. How do you feel about being Lieutenant Sarina Archwood, the dedicated, loving wife of Commander Grayson Archwood?"

"So far, it has been completely invigorating."

"Is that sarcasm I detect?"

"Maybe," she shrugs.

They reach Jacksonville at 1915. They reach their new digs at 1945. Tony allows Ziva to drive the silver sedan that waits for them at the airport. She opens the garage, and pulls into the bay. Next to the silver sedan sits a navy blue, mid-sized SUV. Tony bails out of the car, and grabs the bags out of the trunk.

"Which car do you want to drive?"

"I am getting a choice?" she questions as she unlocks the door to the house.

"Decide quickly," he warns as he closes the garage door.

"You take the car," she answers as she steps into the kitchen. She flips on the light. On the island a package waits for them. Tony sits the suitcases next to the island. Ziva uses her knife to open the package. She finds a box full of newspaper. She begins to remove the newspaper, and finds pictures, in tasteful picture frames. She chuckles.

"It looks like you have some work to do."

"Work?"

"Hanging up pictures," she smiles, holding up a photoshopped picture of them.

"How about a shower, instead?" he replies.

"Agreed."

He grabs their bags, and follows her upstairs. He sticks the bags in the master bedroom. She flips on the light in the hallway. They explore the upstairs. In addition to a master suite are two guest bedrooms, with nothing in them. Between the two extra bedrooms is a bathroom.

"I guess we're sleeping together," he remarks.

She doesn't responds as she disappears into the bedroom. She grabs her things, and heads into the master bathroom, to shower. Ten minutes later she comes out of the bathroom, in a towel. She stares at him, as he sits on the edge of the bed.

"What are you doing?"

"Waiting for you to finish. What are you doing?"

"Getting my clothes. Why are you waiting? There is another bathroom, across the hall."

"I am trying to be realistic here."

"If you were really my husband, and we just got off a plane, after a full day at work, you wouldn't wait. You would shower with me, don't you think?"

"Is that an invitation?"

She rolls her eyes, and returns to the bathroom.


	2. Eggs

She opens her eyes, and finds light pouring in to the room. She stares at the window. She lies on her side. She feels the covers pulled up to her chin. She feels a body next to her. A man with his arms wrapped around her. She rolls over, and looks at him. Much to her surprise he stares back at her.

"That is creepy."

"I didn't want to wake you."

"Why are you holding me?'

"I don't know," he admits.

"What's on your mind?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I can tell, from the look in your eye."

"Well, Sarina, if you must know, I was thinking about our marriage."

"What about our _fake_ marriage?" She makes sure to emphasize the word fake.

"Well we have been married three years."

She thinks back to the file, "Our anniversary is June 12th," she recites.

"Do you think that we want kids?"

"This is a fake marriage," she reminds him.

"I know, but people are going to ask. We need to discuss it."

"Can't we just tell them that it is none of their business?"

"That never goes over well."

"We can just say that we're waiting for the right time," she suggests.

"Ah, the elusive, right time. Maybe you're waiting for the right time, but I'm ready now. I am not getting any younger."

She cracks a smile, "You certainly are not."

"How many do you want?"

She studies him, trying to discern what she's really asking her.

"In real life," he clarifies, "Do you want kids?"

"Yes."

"How many?"

"Two."

"Boy, girl?"

"It doesn't matter, besides I don't get much of a choice. You take what you get."

"Uh huh."

"What about you? How many do you want?"

"Seven, one for each day of the week," he jokes.

"Seriously."

"At least two."

"At least?"

"Only children are always weird."

"You are an only child," she points out.

"I know."

"I always figured that I would have a daughter, to pay me back, double."

"A daughter? I cannot picture you with a daughter. Or a son, for that matter. You are terrible with children."

"I think that it would be different if they were my own. They would get used to me."

"You are awkward around children."

"You never know when they are going to barf on you, or pee on you, or do something crazy."

"I cannot imagine having another one of you, running around."

"What about you? Can you imagine having a child, like you?"

"No. I would hope that my child was not like me," she admits.

"But she would have your eyes."

"Whatever you are visualizing right now, just stop," she warns.

"You are not getting any younger either, you know."

"I am aware of that."

"Don't you think that you should start thinking about having children, if you..."

"With who? Who am I going to do that with?"

"I don't know. You could go to a sperm bank."

"A sperm bank? How would I raise a child, on my own? With the hours that I work?"

"So you have given this some thought?"

"Yes, maybe."

"So you would, like children, one day?"

"If the timing is ever right."

"And if not?"

"It probably never will be."

"It will."

"How do you know?"

"Because you deserve to have what you want."

His stomach growls, and she smiles.

"Is there any food in the kitchen?" she questions.

"I don't know. We probably should have looked, before we went to bed."

"Especially with your delicate eating schedule."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"As soon as your feet hit the floor, you have to eat."

"Your point?"

"You get cranky when you're hungry."

"And you don't?"

She stretches, and crawls out of bed. She leaves the room, and a few seconds later she follows after him. He finds her in the kitchen. She stands in front of the open refrigerator.

"Well, what's the verdict?"

"Milk, bread, eggs, butter, jelly. That is all that is in this kitchen."

"Obviously he thought that we could do our own grocery shopping."

"Yes."

"So what are we having?"

"I guess we're having eggs."

"Am I cooking, or are you?"

"You know how to cook?"

"I am a very good cook."

"I'll cook you breakfast, I think that it is part of the job description."

"What job description?"

"As your wife."

"Like you have ever been traditional."

"I'll make your breakfast, but you are in charge of dinner."

"And for lunch?"

"You will have to fend for yourself," she smiles as she turns on the stovetop, and places the frying pan on top of it.

"I could just kiss you right now."

"No one is watching us, so please don't," she warns.

"You never know."

She rolls her eyes, as she cracks the eggs.


	3. Needs

Hours later she pulls into the driveway. She pushes the remote, to open the garage door. It comes open, and she pulls her car into the garage. She finds his already waiting. She turns the car off, and closes the garage door. She climbs out of the car, and heads for the house. She pushes open the door between the garage and the kitchen. She finds him, waiting on her.

"What are you doing?" she smiles.

"You said that I was in charge of dinner."

"I didn't say anything about candlelight."

"I thought that it would be nice."

"You do not have to be romantic, we are not..."

"Just let me pretend."

"Why?"

"Let's face it, this is the closet that either one of us, may ever come to being married."

"Ok," she nods in agreement.

He pulls out her chair for her. She takes a seat, and looks at her plate, as he takes a seat across the table from her.

"So did you actually cook, or did..."

"I cooked. The sink full of dirty dishes is not a ruse."

"So then you went to the grocery store?"

"You did leave me a list, didn't you?"

"I did, but..."

"I also hung the pictures."

"That was not very important."

"It was on the list."

"You are supposed to be realistic. Most husbands would not get off work, and go to the grocery store, and work on their honey to do list."

"I am striving for excellence."

"I think I know what you're going for, and it's not going to happen."

"Really?"

"I know how you think."

"Just eat."

"You know technically rule number twelve doesn't apply here. None of the rules apply right now."

"Ziva why are you bringing that up?"

"Just trying to be realistic," she smiles.

She begins to eat. They eat in silence. They make eye contact between bites. He is afraid to push his luck. When they finish he offers to take her plate. He scrapes the leftover into the trash, and rinses the plate in the sink. When he turns around he finds her sitting on the counter of the island.

"What are you doing?"

"We need to have a discussion," she insists.

"About what?"

"It is obvious to me that things... we are going to be here for a while. We need to set some ground rules."

"Like what?"

"Never use my toothbrush."

"I would never use your toothbrush. Don't use my razor."

"I have my own."

"Is it pink," he jokes.

"So what if it is?" she responds defensively.

"I just never pictured you as someone who uses pink razors."

"I do not decide the color that the manufacturer makes them."

"What else?"

"We should have fun with this."

"I agree."

"We should do things, that we normally wouldn't be allowed to do."

"Like what? Say we're sorry?"

"I think that we should be fully committed to making this seem like a legitimate marriage. It is the only way that our cover will not be blown, if we get in deep enough to find out what is going on."

"What does that mean?"

"No one from home is watching us, but..."

"But?"

"That doesn't mean that we're not being watched."

"It is possible. You want to give them a show?"

"I don't want anyone to question that we are married."

"How do we convince them, we are an unlikely couple. You like to get up early, I like to sleep in. You like to sleep on top of the covers, and I like to sleep under them. You speak dozens of languages, I barely speak two. You're restrained, and I say what is on my mind. You want two kids, I want seven."

"You do not."

"I want a dog, you think that you have a hard enough training me."

"That is true, after almost six years, I still don't have you trained. You left the toilet seat up, last night, by the way."

"It won't happen again."

"Yes it will."

"I like that look, by the way," he smiles.

She stares at her uniform. It was not attractive. He stares at her hair, tightly braided, like GI Jane.

"Grayson?"

"Yes Sarina?"

"I might need some help, getting out of this uniform," she teases.

"No, you don't. Don't tempt me."

"I'm your wife, I can do whatever I want. Remember? We're Sarina, and Grayson. A married couple."

"You don't think that the steamy, passion-filled nights are over after three years of marriage."

"I hope not. There is only one way to find out, though."

"You're not seriously suggesting that we really..."

"Why not?"

"We're partners."

"What happens here, stays here. No one ever has to know."

"Where is this coming from? It is a curiosity, or..."

"More like a need."

"A need?"

"I need to be with someone that I trust."

He cocks his head, looking at her in curiosity. He stands next to her as she sits on the island. He looks at her feet. She follows his line of sight, unsure what he's thinking.


	4. Trust

Without a word he slips her socks off. Underneath he finds painted toenails. Finally he composes himself, and is able to look at her, and ask the question. He steps closer. He doesn't touch her. He looks into her eyes.

"How long, has it been?"

"A long time," she admits.

"How long?"

"Months..." she looks up at him.

He looks back at her, in doubt.

"Many, many months, more than a year," she reveals.

"So..."

"After I came home, I could barely look at myself, let alone, bare the thought of someone else looking at me. I did not want anyone to look at me, or touch me. I never realized that it would be so difficult. I thought that I could over come the... fear, I guess that is what it was, but I never could. I felt as if, no one else would understand. I am not who I used to be. I... did not want to frustrate anyone, including myself."

"Why me? Why now?"

"There are no rules against it."

"Why me?"

"I trust you, with my life. You know things about me, that no one else knows. You have seen me at my worst. You know what I am capable of. You... came to the dessert, to kill my captor. Not just out of revenge, but to serve justice. You came, even though you thought that I was dead."

"I had doubts, all the evidence said that you were dead, but... I never believed it. I could never convince myself that you were gone. I knew that if you were, that if it was true, I had to find a reason..."

"A reason for what?"

"A reason to keep going, with you gone."

"What do you mean?"

"I let you go. I never should have let you go."

"You had no say."

"You were angry, but... I kept thinking that if I had asked you to stay, even you could have seen through the anger, and said yes."

"I hated you, because you always told me the truth, even when it was too hard to handle, even when I didn't want to believe it. That is the same thing that I love about you. You always tell me the truth."

"You deserve the truth, everyone does."

"And when you couldn't tell me the truth, you didn't lie, you simply told me that you couldn't tell me."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You will not hurt me."

"I..."

"I will not break."

"Are you sure about this?" he squints, trying to read her face.

"You have undressed me with your eyes, enough times."

"You are not supposed to know about that."

"You are not very covert about it."

"I guess I just can't help it."

"What is it that you want to see?"

"Everything?"

"You do not want to see everything."

"Yes I do," he argues.

"I doubt it."

"I want to see it all. Every mark, and scar... I want to see it all."

"Why? Why would you want that?"

"Hiding them, is like hiding who you are. I am tired of not being able to see all of you."

"You are not afraid what might happen? If you see everything? I know you, I know that you will wonder. You will want me to tell you about each one, what if I can't?"

"That is ok."

"Is it?"

"I don't need to know about every single scar, because they are who you are, and I have always, and will always accept you for who you are."

"Why is that?"

"Not knowing every single thing about you, makes you more interesting."

"I see."

"You seem uncomfortable," he notices her fiddling with her collar.

"I would really like to get out of these clothes. They are stiff, and uncomfortable."

"Then take them off."

"So tired..."

"You sat in an office all day long."

"That is what you did," she argues.

"What did you do?"

"Mostly I sat in an office, but..."

"If you are tired you should go to bed."

"And, if I'm not?"

"I don't know that I should give into you."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know if either of us are ready for that."

"'A', it's just sex, and 'B', we're supposed to be married."

"Who would name their child Grayson? Would you ever name your child Grayson? Who am I kidding, of course you wouldn't. I'm sure that you have to choose something more Hebrew, like Gabriel, or Jonah," he changes the subject.

"You are changing the subject."

"Answer my question, and I will change it back."

"No, I would not name my child Grayson, or anything with a color in it. And, no, it does not have to be Hebrew."

"So then Blue, is out?"

"Change the subject."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I think you're going to win."

"Would that be so bad?"

"I'm not sure if you're ready."

"I assure you, I am. If you are not ready, I will understand that."

"I am ready. I am more than ready. I have been waiting for this, for... longer than I will admit."


	5. Different

He finds himself bending to her will. He steps closer, and slowly begins to unbutton her uniform. He gently unbuttons each button. He untucks her uniform shirt, and pulls it off her. She wears a white tank underneath. He stops.

"Something wrong?"

"In my experience, counters are really appealing, in the movies, but in reality... not quite as practical."

"In my experience you are right."

He takes a step back, and points to the stairway. "Shall we?"

She follows him up the stairs into the bedroom. He flips the light on. She walks in behind him, and flips the light off.

"Turn it back on," he insists.

"You need to be able to see what you're doing?"

"No, I don't."

"I..."

"Turn the light back on."

She flips it back on, feeling a second of apprehension. He carefully pulls the pins out of her hair. Her hair falls onto her shoulders. He removes her necklace, and places it on the dresser. She takes a step closer to him, and she looks into his eyes. He begins to speak, but she stops him. She shakes her head, and presses her lips against his.

When he places his hand on her back, to unclasp her bra, he feels them. He can feel scars criss-crossing her back. He feels her hesitate under his touch. He stops, looking at her for guidance.

"We don't have to do this," he reminds her.

"I'm ok," she tells him.

As her bra straps fall he notices the scars on her shoulder. He realizes that if he had a pen, he could play connect the dots, only instead of dots, he could use scars. Scars on her back, on her shoulders, across her chest. Scars on her abdomen, on her knees, calves, even her feet.

She watches him, as he studies her. She takes a step back. She holds up her palms for him to see. She looks at his face, as she shows him. His eyes dance, from hand to hand. Here there were, both, nearly completely naked, and he was staring at her hands.

He looks at the scars on her hands. Scars on the pads of her fingers, on the palms of her hands. Faint, nearly non-noticeable scars on both of her wrists, where she had been bound, for so long. He looks at her scars, and then he looks at her. Her brown eyes stare at him, waiting for him, expecting him, to back away. He could see that she expected him to run, but he wasn't going anywhere.

He knew that this was not going to be easy for her. He knew that there were things he couldn't do.

She opens her eyes, before sunrise. She looks over at the clock. It tells her that she should be up. She should go for a run, but, there was no desire to run this morning. She did not want to get out of this bed. She looks at the man lying next to her. His eyes flicker under his eyelids. The sheet covers them both. She reaches down to the bottom of the bed, and pulls up the comforter. She situates herself, next to him.

"Go back to sleep," she tells him.

"How can I go back to sleep?"

"Just try. It's not time to wake up yet."

"So why are you awake?"

"My internal alarm is more finely tuned than yours."

"Yes, you are finely tuned."

"I think that the neighbors know we're here now."

"Yes, after last night, the whole town knows we're here."

"Can we talk about this later?"

"Sure."

"I'm tired."

"You haven't gotten much sleep, yet."

"I'm going back to sleep," she promises.

"Ok," he agrees.

She wakes up, nearly two hours later. She finds the bed empty. She sits up, and looks around the room. She sees that the bathroom door is cracked. She hears the shower, and Tony singing in the shower. She rolls her eyes, and surveys the room, for the damage. There are clothes everywhere. The day before neither of them had really bothered to unpack. But last night, they had each gone through the contents of their suitcases.

_She is standing in front of him, both of them, in underwear. He unzips his suitcase, and dumps it onto the floor. She grabs hers and does the same. They search through the piles. She looks up, and finds him shaking his head._

_"Nothing, you?"_

_"Nothing," she adds._

_"Neither of us came prepared?"_

_"I would be concerned if we did," she admits._

_"So, now what?"_

_"We'll clean it up in the morning," she tells him._

_He looks at her in utter confusion._

_"Are you afraid of me?" she questions._

_"No."_

_"Then don't worry about it."_

_"You're serious?"_

_"Yes."_

_"But..."_

_"Nothing is going to happen."_

_"That's what they all say, before they become a lifetime movie."_

_"There is nothing for you to worry about."_

_"Except what red light behavior leads to."_

_"It will not."_

_"How do you know? It's not like your eggs are guarded like Fort Knox."_

_"I am probably never going to be able to conceive a child. Not naturally, anyway."_

_"Says who? Did you just come to that conclusion on your own?"_

_"Multiple physicians. There is too much scar tissue. I guess I have taken too many blows to the abdomen."_

_"You never told me that."_

_"I never had a reason to, until now."_

_"I'm sorry."_

_"What are you sorry for? You didn't do anything to me."_

_"Not what I meant."_

_"It works out to our advantage, anyway."_

_"Do you do this often?" he questions._

_"Not at all."_

_"Which means?"_

_"Never."_

_"Never? Not even once?"_

_"No."_

_"Not even a drunken one night stand?"_

_"No."_

_"So why are you willing to..."_

_"Because this is different," she admits to him, and finally herself. This was different, he was different, and so was she._


	6. Perfect

She was right, it was different. It wasn't just sex, either. He could see it in her eyes, that it was different. That something had changed, for both of them. And after that night, they could have fooled anyone into believe that they were a married couple, even themselves.

They sit around the dinner table, with containers of Chinese food. The dining room table is covered with files, and papers. He looks at his watch.

"We should go to bed, we have to be at work tomorrow."

"There is no pattern. Why is he choosing these people? The only thing that they have in common is that they work, where we work."

"Physical attributes?"

"No."

"Who does he target?"

"We have been over this a thousand times. The only thing that is the same, is that he targets married couples. They are never from the same places. They don't look the same, they are from all different backgrounds, professionally, and personally."

"They're happy couples, maybe that's the common thread."

"That is weak," she replies.

"It's all we've got. Maybe he is someone who was jilted by a former lover, or a wife. Maybe he does it, to prove that they don't know each other, the way that they thought they did. Maybe he does it to prove a point."

"And what would that be?"

"That you never know someone, as well as you think you do."

"I disagree," she replies.

"Really? So you know everything about me?"

"I know your birthday, your favorite movie, your favorite meal, your favorite ice cream. I know everything there is to know about you."

"Let's put you to the test then," he suggests.

"Ask me anything," she agrees.

"My favorite color?"

"You always say that it is blue, but it's really brown. I do not know why it's brown, but it is."

"I can't tell you why."

"Why not?"

"Because you will say that..."

"That what?"

"It isn't true."

"Tell me."

"My favorite color is brown, because it's the color of your eyes."

"That is the dumbest thing I have ever heard."

"It's the truth."

"You are starting to sound like my husband."

"I am," his lips twitch into a smile.

"I also know that you would like to get a puppy, from the pound, a mutt."

"What would I name it?"

"You would name her Fly."

"Fly? That is a stupid dog name," he baits her.

"I agree, but that is what you would choose."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because it was the name of the dog in _Babe_, a movie that you will never admit to seeing, but I know that you have, because I also know that you secretly enjoy watching movies with talking animals, even though you are a grown man."

"How do you know that? Have you seen _Babe_?"

"Of course I have, I have also seen _Charlotte's Web_."

"Yeah, and?"

"I know that if you had a pet pig you would not name it Wilbur, you would name it Lurvy, because you think that name is cool sounding."

"Where do you come up with these things?"

"I told you, I know everything about you."

"I know more about you, than you think."

"Like what, for example?"

"The friction burns that you have on your knees. You would like people to think that they are from... well it doesn't matter..."

"So what are they really from?"

"You were a tomboy. You spent hours on the floor, on your knees, playing with toy trucks, and cars."

"I used to bet the neighborhood boys that I my Matchbox car would beat theirs in a race."

"And they always lost."

"I was a girl, they didn't think that a girl could beat them, but I was too competitive to lose. Everything had to be a game, that's why I never liked dolls. What can you do with them? You dress them up, and sit and look at them."

"You probably had a lot of dolls, didn't you?"

"Yes, my mother bought me lots of dolls."

"Did you ever play with any of them?"

"No, but Tali enjoyed them."

"How do we catch this guy? We have no idea who he is."

"You expect me to know the answer to that?"

"I guess we just have to act like the perfect couple."

"There is no such thing as the perfect couple," she responds.

"I agree."

"And if there were, we definitely are not it. I mean we argued about what to have for dinner the entire car ride home, yesterday. Then we got home, and argued about it for another ten minutes."

"You won," he points out.

"It isn't all about winning, and losing."

"Not everything is competition? I thought that I 'd never hear that from you."

"Tomorrow night you can pick what we have for dinner."

"I was thinking I would take you out for a nice steak dinner, so that everyone can see what a great couple we are."

"I can't eat steak."

"Because tomorrow is, Thursday? And you are against eating steak on Thursdays?"

"No, I physically, cannot eat steak."

"You're allergic to steak?"

"I did not say that I was allergic."

"So how is it, that you can't eat steak?"

"It just makes me sick."

"Steak makes you sick? Since when? I've seen you eat steak before."

"Recently?"

"No."

"I don't know why, but since I returned from Somalia, I have not been able to eat steak. I have tried, but it makes me sick every time. I guess that it is just more than my stomach will hold at one time."

"I did not know that."

"There are a lot of things that you don't know about me."

"Like what?"

"There are a lot of things, where would you like me to start?"

"Anything, it doesn't matter what."

"My second molar, on the top right, is fake."

"Bar fight?" he jokes.

"No. It wasn't even in a fight."

"It was an accident?"

"A car door flew open, and hit me in the face, and cracked my tooth in two. I had to have it pulled, and a fake put in its place."

"Does it come out?"

"No, it's screwed in."

"What else?"

"Did you pick up the dry cleaning on your way to work this morning?"

"Yes."

"I didn't see it."

"Because I already hung it up in the closet."

"Oh."


	7. Normal People

After a month, they have made no headway, with the case. He tiptoes into the living room. He finds her asleep on the couch, with the T.V. still on. He takes the blanket off the back of the couch, and covers her up. He takes a step back, and turns to leave.

"Where are you going?" she questions as he flips off the T.V.

"To bed. Are you coming? The couch is not very comfortable."

"I don't think that I should. I think that it's time we invest in another bed."

"You can't stand to sleep with me another night?"

"We don't sleep very much," she points out.

"I am not really the one to blame for that."

"You are partly to blame."

"Come to bed, I promise that I will behave."

"I don't want to keep you awake."

"You are not going to behave?"

"I am going to climb into bed, and fall asleep. By the time you get out of the shower, I will be snoring. I know that it keeps you up."

"I'm just thankful that you don't sleep with a gun under your pillow anymore."

"I told you that I was sorry."

"I woke up with a gun to my head, with you on top of me."

"That has never happened before."

"That you know of."

"I am a light sleeper, but that night I was dead asleep."

"Is something going on with you? You seem really tired the past couple of weeks."

"I am starting to feel stressed about this case."

"Your sleep is off, I get that. Now come to bed."

"Ok," she agrees.

He allows her to start up the stairs first. She face plants into the bed. He grabs his things, and heads into the bathroom.

"Hey sweet-cheeks," he calls out.

"What?" she groans her voice muffled by her pillow.

He tosses a box at her. It lands on the bed next to her.

"These are for you. I picked them up on my way home."

"What are you throwing at me?"

"They're just breathe right strips."

"For what? I breathe just fine."

"So you don't snore."

"Oh, ok," she concedes.

When he gets out of the shower he finds her asleep, on top of the covers. She lays on her stomach, with the side of her face on her pillow. She doesn't snore, but he notices her drooling. He tiptoes to the other side of the bed. He situates himself under the covers, next to her.

"You must really be out," he whispers.

She doesn't respond. He flips off the lamp, and his brain kicks into overdrive. It had been two weeks since they had heard from anyone at NCIS. Their jobs were easy, and their schedules were fairly compatible. He usually made it home for dinner with her, every night. He didn't know how long it could last, but he was going to enjoy it while it did.

Things were better between them, than they had ever been. They still bickered, but not nearly as much. He was beginning to feel like they were really married. They bickered about taking the trash out, and who did the dishes last. She was beginning to open up to him. He wanted to catch this guy, but he wasn't in a hurry. The mysterious murderer hadn't killed anyone while they were there.

Tony was enjoying life as Grayson. He rolls over, realizing that it was the first night, in weeks that they were both too exhausted to try and start anything. He was glad to be getting a break, she could be pretty exhausting. He rolls onto his side, and he begins to fall into a state of unconsciousness.

He opens his eyes, and finds that she is still sleeping, even though it is five thirty. He looks at her. Her head rests on his arm. Her hand is pressed up against his chest. He looks at her, wondering, how this was going to end. After they were done with this, how were things going to play out? He was in love with her, and he knew... she felt safe with him, which was as good as her telling him that she loved him. He kisses her warm, forehead.

She stirs in her sleep. Her eyes open, and she looks at him.

"Morning," she yawns.

"Sleep well?"

"Mmhm."

"So you still want separate beds?"

"No, I was deliriously tired, you can disregard most of what I said last night."

"That's a shame."

"Why?"

"You told me that you wanted to get up early this morning, and work-out."

"It is too late to take a run," she peeks at the clock.

"Who said anything about running?"

She slips out from under her arm. He watches her make her way to the bathroom. She grabs her uniform out of the closet, and hangs it on the back of the bathroom door. She leaves the door ajar, as she turns the faucet on.

"Weren't you just complaining about the water bill?"

"We have to get clean."

"We can conserve water, you know. I am surprised that you aren't jumping at the chance to join me."

"I didn't know that you were offering."

"I didn't know that I had to."

He kicks the covers onto the floor, and jumps out of bed. He makes a beeline for the bathroom.

He looks in the kitchen cabinets. He looks over at her. She leans up against the counter. Her elbows rest on the island. Her head rests atop her hands.

"So what do you want for breakfast? Pancakes, french toast?"

"I'm not that hungry."

"You always eat breakfast," he points out.

"I'm just not that hungry this morning. Can't we just be normal people, and eat cereal?"

"We can eat cereal, but that is not going to make us normal," he smiles.

"We don't have to be at work for an hour."

"Your point?"

"Can I have a spatula?" she questions.

He looks at her questioningly, and pulls open the drawer. The drawer is full of kitchen utensils, and square wrappers.

"If anyone walked into this house, and opened a single drawer, they would think that we are sex addicts."

"You are the one who made that purchase in bulk. I just ran out of places to put them. That was the last place I could find."

"I find that hard to believe."

"And why is that?"

"Because yesterday I went to grab a packet of sweetener, and I pulled out something else."

"We are almost out."

"How can we almost be out?"

"Do I really need to answer that?"

"What does almost out mean to you?"

"There are two in that drawer, one in each car, two... one in the bathroom, and that's it."

"Do you think that we're sex addicts?"

"Can I change my mind about the cereal?" she questions as he places a box in front of her.

"Why would you want to do that?"

"Is this what you're going to eat?"

"I had planned on it, why?"

"You know how you mentioned to me the other day, that you miss finding prizes in your cereal?"

"Yes, why?"

She looks up at him, "Can we eat the cornflakes instead?"

He shakes his head. He opens the box of cereal. He unrolls the plastic inside. He pours some cereal into an empty bowl. He finds a shiny blue wrapper in his cereal. He fishes it out. He cocks his head, and looks at her.

"Really?"

"I guess that you have outgrown your childish need to find prizes in the cereal."

He smirks. He holds it up, and rips it open. He shakes his head. "Nope, you're definitely wrong there."


	8. Cheater

She slips into through the garage door. She tiptoes into the kitchen, she sets her things on the floor.

"Are you home?"

"My car is in the garage, isn't it? Or did you expect it to be your other husband?" he calls from upstairs.

"Can you come down here, please?"

"So you can repeat this morning, no thank you."

"It was not that bad," she insists.

"I was stabbed in the back, with a fork."

"It is just a little scratch, by tomorrow you will have forgotten about it."

"I doubt it. It went in pretty deep."

"Next time you will not forget to clear the table," she chuckles.

"Not funny."

"Can you come down here, please?"

"Please? Since when do you use please?"

"How many times do I need to apologize?"

"I'll let you know when you have reached the correct number of times."

"Get your hairy butt down here!" she demands.

She hears him start down the stairs. He reaches the bottom, and looks at her.

"Did you booby trap the place?"

"No."

"So did you bring me home something, to make it up to me?"

"Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes," she nods in confirmation.

"What did you get me?"

She points to the box on the counter.

"Ha! If you think that I am never coming near you again, you are sadly mistaken."

"It wasn't like I stabbed you. You laid down on a fork. That is not my fault."

"It was traumatic."

"You are such a baby."

"That is not going to make up for this morning," he tells her, still standing at the bottom of the stairs.

"I brought you something else."

"Chocolate, flowers? You know that's what I am supposed to do when I screw up, right?"

"I did not bring you either of those."

"Steak? Did you bring me a steak?"

"Do you smell steak?"

"No."

"Come in here."

He walks into the kitchen. He stops when he reaches her.

"I am sorry," she apologizes it.

"Prove it," he leans towards her.

She does not kiss him. She turns her head, and he gets her cheekbone.

"That was cold."

"I am trying to get your attention, and you are incorrigible. You have such a one track mind."

"My attention. For what?"

She points to the floor.

"Is that a rat? What is that on the floor?"

She turns around, and flips on the light switch. He stares at the floor in disbelief. A puppy sits at her feet.

"You got me a puppy?"

"It is obvious that we are going to be here, for a while."

"And when we go home?"

"We can share custody," she suggests.

"What is his name?"

"It's a girl."

"A girl? What am I supposed to name her?"

"Whatever you want."

"You already named her, didn't you?"

"No. Why would you think that?"

"I just..."

"You can name her."

Tony picks the puppy up off the floor. She is fuzzy, and white. She licks his nose. He takes a good look at her, and comes up with a name.

"Lizzie," he announces.

"Lizzie?"

"Yep."

"She has a name, and now you can take her out."

"What does that have to do with the price of tea in China?"

"You name her, she is your dog, which means you are responsible for her."

"That was a dirty rotten trick."

"I am going to go change out of these clothes."

His eyes meet hers for brief second.

"And I do not need any help," she adds.

"Thank you for making that clear."

He grabs the dog, and heads outside with her.

When he comes back inside from the backyard he finds that Ziva has turned off all the lights, and is staring out the widow at the front of the house.

"What are you doing?"

"That car has been parked outside every night this week."

"So?"

"She is married. Her husband is serving in Iraq."

"You think it's her lover?"

"I know it is."

"How?"

"I just got off the phone with Abby. She only sees him when her husband is away."

"That is pretty cold, don't you think? Your husband goes off to fight for his country, and you are having sex with someone else?"

"Everyone has needs."

"Are you saying that if I were to go off to war..."

"We are not really married."

"If we were."

"That is not a good example."

"Tell me, if we were really married, if we really were who we are pretending to be, and I had to go serve overseas, would you cheat on me?"

"No. Marriage vows are supposed to mean something. In sickness, and health, through good times and bad. That is what is wrong with people, at the first sign of trouble, or upheaval, they run. They would rather move on to someone new, than try to work on what they have. People have no sense of loyalty, anymore."

"I agree."

"It was a dumb question."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because you knew the answer, when you asked."

"You could ask me the same."

"I know the answer. You may believe in serial dating, and be a commit-a-phobe, but you don't take it lightly. And you are afraid of me."

"I will always be loyal to you, no matter what."


	9. This Is It

He wakes up, and the sun is streaming through the shut blinds. He looks at the clock, only seven, on a Saturday. He was sure that his partner had been up for at least an hour. He rolls away from the window. He finds the dog lying next to him, asleep. He looks around the room.

"Where are you?" he calls out.

"I'm using the bathroom," she answers him.

"Oh."

He hears the toilet flush. Seconds later the faucet turns on. It turns off, and she comes into the bedroom. He finds it odd that she is still in her pajamas.

"You're not dressed yet?"

"Dressed for what? It's Saturday, also known as our day off."

"I just figured that you would be dressed."

"And why would you figure that?"

"Haven't you been up for a while?"

"If you consider ten minutes a while."

"You're getting lazy. When was the last time that you woke up at five?"

"Yesterday."

"Without rolling over, and going back to sleep for another half an hour?"

"I do not know," she shrugs.

"And when was the last time you went for a run?"

"Last night."

"Why are you running on a treadmill? The weather is so nice. Wouldn't you rather be outside?"

"Since when is change a bad thing?"

"It's not, but you aren't very good at it."

"I am trying."

"So what are we doing today?"

"I didn't really have any plans."

"You did promise me sex on the beach," he reminds her.

"When did I do that?"

"Not actual sex..."

"Oh you mean the recipe for dessert that the neighbor gave me?"

"Yes."

"I'd much rather do the other thing."

"We can go to the beach, but I think they frown upon you having sex on it, in front of other people," he adds.

"Can you just pretend that we are a normal couple, just once?"

"We are not a normal couple," she insists.

"How do you figure?"

"Nothing about this is normal. You are my partner, and... this is our job."

"A job that we have gotten no where with."

"How do you suggest that we smoke this guy out?"

"Your theory is that his rage is triggered by the perfect couple. We will just have to prove to everyone that we are the perfect couple."

Ziva's phone rings.

"Hello?" she answers.

"You two are both still alive?"

"Yes, Abby."

"Good, because you have a murder to solve. I just got some info from the police down there. I sent it to your email."

"Ok, thanks."

"One more thing."

"What's that Abby?"

"I really liked the last picture I got."

"What picture?"

"Of the puppy."

"You know about her?"

"Yeah, Tony told me that you thought she would be a good way to maintain your cover."

"Yes, we were just getting ready to take her for a walk, so I've got to go."

"Bye," Abby hangs up.

He ties his shoes, and follows her out the door. She waits for him, on the sidewalk, with the dog leash in her hand.

"We are going for a nice, relaxing walk. We are not running," he reminds her.

"Yes, my hairy-butt, I know," she answers as she pulls her shades over her eyes. They walk for a hundred yards, next to each other. Without any warning his hand slips into hers. He expects her to nonchalantly, pull away. She doesn't. She intertwines her fingers in his. She doesn't look at him, but she feels him looking at her. He takes a deep breath.

"This is nice," he admits.

"Yes, it is."

"Do you wonder, what happens, if we don't catch him?"

"As far as I know, that isn't an option."

He stops dead, he turns and looks at her.

"What do you mean?"

"You don't know?"

"Know what?"

"If we can't catch him... this is it."

"This is it? What do you mean?"

"If we are unsuccessful, we never go home. If we fail to catch this guy, this is our life. This will be it, we will have to be Grayson, and Sarina Archwood, for the rest of our lives."

"You aren't serious."

"Does that bother you?"

"If you knew that, why were you willing to sign up for this? You didn't have to do this."

"Yes I did."

"No one was after your badge, why did you do this?"

"Because you are my partner, I have, and always will have your back, no matter what."

"You're telling me that..."

"Vance does not expect us to be able to catch him. He does not think that it is a case that anyone can solve."

"So why did he send us here?"

"With us gone who is going to be able to stop him? He has effectively torn Gibbs team apart, the next move will be to, get rid of Gibbs."

"Gibbs knows this?"

"Yes."

"So why did he let us go?"

"Because he believes in the impossible. I guess he believes in us."


	10. Falling

"I can't believe that you were willing to make those sacrifices, for me. Do you know what you are giving up?"

"I am not giving anything up."

"You really believe that? Are you really going to be happy, if this is our life?"

"In my life I have learned many things. One of the most important things that I have learned is that you are the only person who controls your happiness."

"You really think that you can be happy with me?"

"You do not?"

"I am asking because I don't know."

"I am happy with you. I am happy here, with this. I am more happy than I have been in a very long time."

"Why is that?"

"Because even though I am being someone else, I feel like for the first time in my life, I am being allowed to be myself. You see me for who I really am, and you're ok with it. I trust you, and I am beginning to..."

"Beginning to what?"

"To believe that Vance isn't the only one who wanted this."

"What do you mean?"

"Gibbs sees things that other people don't, or refuse to see."

"Which is what?"

She smiles, "Sometimes we are both idiots. Sometimes we make really stupid moves. Neither of us really want to open up about our feelings, to anyone. Neither of us believes in committing our whole lives to one person, because it is against human nature. Both of us have been hurt, and jaded. He sees what we never could."

"And what would that be?"

"That no matter what happens, in our lives, we are always going to need the other person. Without each other we are just halves of a pair. We keep each other balanced, in check. We remind each other that not everyone thinks like we do, and we are better people for it."

"Zi...Sarina, what are you saying, here?"

"If this is it, if I have to spend the rest of my life, married to you, I am ok with it."

"You're sure about that?"

"I am as sure of that as I am that the sky is blue."

"Good."

Her forehead wrinkles, and she squints at him, behind her glasses.

"Good?"

He wraps his arm around her waist, and pulls her in to him. He kisses her.

"What was that for?" she wonders.

"I feel the same."

"Oh," she smiles.

He kisses her again. Their lips pull away from each other. He pulls her close, his lips graze her ear. He whispers, "And we're being watched," he adds quickly.

She smiles at him devilishly. "In that case," she whispers. Her lips meet his. He follows her lead, even as her tongue slips between his lips.

Hours later he finds himself laying in a hammock, in the backyard, with her. The dog lays on the patio, asleep, in the shade.

"It's a good thing that we have a fence back here," she tells him.

"And why is that?"

"The neighbors probably don't want to see such explicit things," she warns.

"What explicit things?"

She agilely maneuvers herself. Her head moves from it's resting spot on his arm. In the blink of an eye she straddles him. He looks up at her.

"Sweet-cheeks, are you sure about this?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"You aren't afraid that we are going to tip out of the hammock?"

"I will be gentle," she teases.

"I don't believe that for a second."

With one single, swift movement she removes his belt, and tosses it aside. The hammock swings, from side to side. He tries to sit up.

"I don't know about this," he argues.

She pushes against his chest. He flies back violently. His arms fly out to his sides, as he tries to regain balance. Seconds later the rope tied to one end of the hammock snaps. They fall to the ground. He finds himself on the ground. He looks at her, but he finds that he isn't the least bit irritated. She rolls off him, onto her back. She lays in the grass, cackling. He comes off the hammock. He pins her to the ground. He smiles.

"You think that it's funny? Huh?"

She looks up at him. She continues to laugh. After several moments she catches her breath, and is able to speak. She swallows, and then answers.

"Yes, a little bit," she admits.

He rocks back, onto the soles of his feet. He pushes himself off the ground, onto his feet. He reaches down, extending a hand to her. She takes his hand, and he pulls her to her feet.

She walks towards the sliding glass door. She turns and looks at him, as he whistles for the dog.

"I think that it would be more appropriate to say don't rock the hammock, than don't rock the boat, don't you think?"

"In our case, yes, I guess so," he agrees.

He slides the door closed behind him. She looks over at the fridge, and sighs.

"Let's out for lunch," he suggests, turning around, and opening the door, to let the dog back out.

"No argument here."

"It's less work for the both of us. No cooking for you. No dishes, or trash for me."

"You do not always do the dishes, or take out the trash," she argues.

"When was the last time that you took out the trash?"

She tries to think back, she doesn't respond quickly enough.

He calls her on it, "Exactly, you don't."

"I do lots of other things."

"What other things? Aside from vacuuming, and laundry, what is there to do?"

"I do both of those things."

"We rotate on laundry. Besides most of our stuff gets dry cleaned."

"When was the last time you vacuumed?"

"The other day."

"The other day, when?"

"Tuesday."

"Tuesday?"

"When you asked me to vacuum up the dog hair."

"You vacuumed the rug in front of the couch. That is hardly the same. I vacuum the whole house."

"That is not what you asked."

"The shower needs cleaned."

"I suppose that it's my turn?"

"Yes," she nods.

"How do I know?"

She points to the calendar on the wall, "We wrote it down, remember?"

"I hate when I have brilliant ideas, that hold me accountable, because you never let me wriggle out of things."

"You certainly wriggled out of that hammock."

"For the record, you are the one who broke the hammock."

She tosses him the keys, and opens the door to the garage.

"I think that was a joint effort," she quarrels.

"You are the one who always wants sex," he disagrees.

"Me? You woke me up out of a dead sleep the other night."

"That was different," he climbs into the car.

"How?" she presses the garage door opener attached to her visor.

"I knew that if I let you sleep until five that you would have slept for nine hours, and if I let that happen, I knew how cranky you would be. I had to do something to keep you awake for a little while."

"Most people are cranky if they don't get enough sleep."

"When have you ever been _most_ people?" he retorts as he backs the car out of the garage.


	11. Anniversary

After nearly four months in Florida, they still have not been able to find the guy. They keep tabs, on a few potential suspects, but they are unable to get anything concrete. She pulls into a parking space, at the restaurant. He gets out of the car first. He opens the door for her. She smiles at him. He offers her his hand.

He is dressed in a pair of linen pants, and a short sleeved, button down shirt, and she wears a flowery, spaghetti strapped maxi dress. Her hair flows down her back. They both wear flip flops. It was amazing how relaxed they had become. It was a sharp contrast, between the uniforms they had grown accustomed to wearing, every day.

He opens the door for her. The maitre d' takes their names, and leads them to their table. He pulls out her chair for her. The waiter brings them a couple of drinks, and takes their orders. He smiles at her, from across the table, near the center of the restaurant.

"What?"

"Nothing, I was just thinking how beautiful you look."

"It's the tan," she jokes.

"Did you find the anniversary card that I left you?"

"Why did you leave the house so early this morning?"

"I had to get your gift," he admits.

"Did you find your card?"

"I can't believe you snuck it into the car, last night, after we went to bed."

"It is not my fault that you are such a sound sleeper."

"Was Lizzie in or out, when we left?"

"She was inside."

"So we can't stay out too long? She might get restless, and decide to eat my shoes again."

"That is why you are supposed to leave your shoes in the garage."

"She is not supposed to eat shoes."

She laughs.

"What is so funny?"

"Do you hear us?"

"We sound like an old married couple," he smiles.

"Yes, I guess that we do."

"So are you excited for you gift?"

"I wish that you would tell me what I am getting. You already know what you got."

"I still acted surprised."

"It wasn't that great. You are not an easy person to buy for, you know?"

"I know that, but I loved what you got me."

"Movies are not a romantic gift."

"Since when do you care about romance?"

"I am just trying to make the best of things. So are you going to tell me what you got me?"

"Absolutely not."

"Not even a hint?"

"I know that you have ways you can make me talk, but would you just once, let me surprise you?"

"Only if you will let me surprise you."

"Do you have a surprise for me?" he wonders, feeling like a kid the night before Christmas.

"Maybe," she shrugs.

"You are such a tease sometimes."

"What is taking them so long? I am starving."

"I ordered steak."

"It is not that difficult to cook, not the way that you like it, any way. All they have to do is slap it on the grill, leave it there for two seconds, flip it over, let it cook another two seconds, and throw it on a plate."

"I just like it pink in the middle."

"You like it still mooing when they put it on your plate."

"You like your food your way, and I like mine my way."

"Like popcorn, with a cup of salt, on every bite."

"You are exaggerating."

"Not by much."

"I like salt, and butter, and red meat, sue me."

"Don't get me started on the butter."

"What is wrong with butter?"

"Nothing, in moderation. You take half a stick of butter, and put it on a potato, with a cup of sour cream, and eat it. I don't know why you even bother with the potato."

"You are definitely stretching things, a little bit, don't you think."

"Not really. Should I even mention the tea incident from last week?"

"You can't put a cup of sugar in a gallon pitcher, and then dump half a gallon of ice in it. You might as well just drink water."

"You make yours too strong."

"So make your own, and don't drink mine."

"If you dislike it so much, why did you drink it?"

"It was hot, and I had just gotten done mowing, and that was all there was in the fridge."

"There was water."

"We didn't have any bottled water," he argues.

"You can't drink tap water?"

"I don't like the sandy, gritty taste."

"You're going to have to get used to it."

"I don't think that I ever will."

"You are such a baby," she shakes her head.

"Says the woman who refuses to allow the central air to creep above sixty five degrees."

"I like air conditioning."

"You need to get used to the heat, eventually."

"I do not have to, that is why they invented air conditioning."

"I sleep with six blankets at night."

"I told you how to remedy that."

"I am not going to sleep outside, on the porch."

"The dog doesn't seem to mind."

"In the middle of the day. Sarina, she sleeps at the foot of the bed at night."

"You are the one who treats her like a person."

"I gave her a piece of cheese, one time, and you won't let it go."

"I can't go into the kitchen without her attacking me."

"She isn't vicious. She just loves cheese. You make it sound worse than it is. It's really just begging."

"I opened the fridge yesterday, and didn't give her any cheese, and she growled at me, it is becoming a problem."

"When we get home, I will have a discussion with her," he vows.

She rolls her eyes, "She's a dog," she quips.


	12. Bait

She puts the key into the ignition. Before she can turn the engine on she feels a barrel pointed at the back of her head. Tony makes eye contact with her. She freezes.

"Don't move," a man in the backseat warns.

Tony tries to coax him, "Listen buddy, you can have the car."

"I don't want the car. Now drive. Follow my instructions, and I might let you live."

"Like you let all your other victims live?" Tony stupidly asks.

"The could not follow simple directions, or answer simple questions. Now shut up, or your ride ends here."

"Understood."

"Now drive!"

Forty minutes later they find themselves strapped back to back, in chairs. The killer looks at them, he brandishes a gun.

"This remind you of anything?" Tony questions.

"Nothing good," she replies.

"Shut up! I ask the questions."

"Can you answer just one question?" Tony begs.

"What is that?"

"We have a bet, about who you are, can you take off the mask."

"So you can report back to your boss?"

"Please," Ziva begs.

He pulls off the ski mask. They look at him.

"See, I told you that he was the neighbor's lover boy."

"You were right," Ziva admits.

He stares at Tony. He points a gun to Ziva's head. He looks Tony in the eyes.

"Tell me, how much do you love your wife?"

"I would do anything for her."

"You would die for her?"

"In an instant. If I thought you were willing to bargain, willing to trade her life, for mine, I would do it, in a second, without any hesitation."

"This is where you argue with him. You tell me that you can't live without him. The two of you plead with me, tell you how you're the perfect couple, and I should let you live."

"You think that we are the perfect couple?" Tony scoffs.

"We are not the perfect couple," Ziva agrees.

"Really?" the assailant raises an eyebrow, "Tell me."

"He does the most irritating things. Leaves the toilet seat up, forgets to take out the trash."

Tony adds to the list of their collective imperfections, "She snores loud enough to keep the neighbors up. She always makes me bathe the dog."

He cocks the gun, and points it at Tony's head. He bends down to Ziva's level.

"Tell me, do you love your husband?"

"Yes."

"Why do the two of you feel the need to lie to me?"

"About what?" Tony raises an eyebrow.

"Who you are. The two of you aren't really married. You are NCIS agents, who are undercover posing as a married couple, to lure me out."

"If you know that, why did you take the bait?"

"I wanted to send a message."

"And what would that be?" Tony inquires.

"No one is going to send me to prison."

"If you kill us, there are people who will hunt you down, and make you wish that you were dead," Ziva warns.

"No one will care. The two of you have been erased."

"People don't take kindly to those who kill federal agents," Tony tries to appeal to his sense of logic, hoping that he has one.

"Why are we still discussing this? I came here to kill the two of you, and... that is what I intend to do."

"That will be a mistake," Tony insists.

"And why is that?"

"You'll never get away with it," Ziva replies.

"You're wrong," he argues.

"Every single person on the Eastern Seaboard will be looking for you, when they find out the truth. You killed those people, because you could never have what you wanted. Then you got cocky, and you killed two federal agents. I would not want to be on your end of that investigation," Ziva doesn't back down.

"Are you trying to convince me to let the two of you live?"

"I will bargain. You are right, we have been erased. Let us go, no one ever has to know that this happened."

"You think that I can trust you never to tell?"

"We will leave, and, we'll go somewhere where no one knows us. I have everything in place, all you have to do is say the word, and we can all walk away. It is best for you, if you just walk away now."

"Why is that Miss David?"

"They will never ever catch whoever you are in this with, he is far smarter than you."

"I have been ok so far," he points out.

"You won't be if you kill us."

"And why is that?" he is curious to find out.

"People get pissed when you kill federal agents. What really puts them over the edge, makes them rally, is when you take an innocent life."

"An innocent life? None of the lives I have taken have been innocent. None so far, and the two of you certainly are not innocent, either."

"I agree. The two of us, are not innocent, but I am not talking about the two of us."

"So what are you talking about, then?"

"Killing in cold blood. Stealing a life, before it has had the chance to begin. I have done a lot of terrible, terrible things in my life, but this is something that turns, even my stomach."

"What is she talking about?" he looks at Tony.

Tony shrugs.

"Let us go, before you do something that you can't take back."

"Why would I want to do that?"

"We will walk away, we will run, and never tell anyone. You will be a free man."

"Why are you so certain that if I kill you, I will get caught?"

"Because people value life."

"Miss David stop being cryptic. What are you trying to say here?"

"When you kill a pregnant woman, people feel their blood boil. They will hunt you down, like a pack of wolves. They will not stop, until they catch you."

"Who is pregnant? None of them were pregnant."

"I am," she says flatly.


	13. Faked

"Why should I believe you?"

"You have no reason to. Are you willing to deal, or not?"

"What are you proposing?"

"I give you proof, and you let us go. We will leave. We will drive, until after sunrise, and we won't turn back. We will never go back to our old lives. We will change our identities, and we will never be found. We will never tell anyone."

"If you prove it, which I doubt that you can, and I do let you go, how will I know that you are telling the truth?"

"You don't."

"If you lie to me, I will hunt you down, and take everything, and everyone who has ever mattered to you."

"I understand, so do we have a deal?" She questions.

"Give me proof," he insists.

"What kind of proof do you need?"

"A positive pregnancy test."

"Get a test, and I will pee on it. When it's positive, you will let us go?"

"Ok," he nods.

"There is a convenience store less than a minute away. We cannot escape in that amount of time."

"Ok," he nods.

He leaves them alone. When they hear the car start up outside, Tony breaks the silence.

"So what is your plan?"

"I lead, you follow," she answers.

"How do you plan to get us out of this?"

"Just trust me."

"Ziva..."

"I will get us out of this, just trust me."

"Ok," he agrees, unsure of how she could do the impossible, but not doubting her for a moment.

Three minutes later he returns. He loosens Ziva's restraints and follows her into the bathroom. He hands her the box.

"Do you have to watch me pee?"

"I want to be certain that you aren't doctoring it."

"Ok," she rolls her eyes.

The next three minutes seem like an eternity to Tony. Finally the assailant returns with Ziva. He stops when he reaches Tony. He cuts his restraints.

"The two of you are free to go. The keys are in the car, don't make me regret my decision."

They walk out of the abandoned warehouse. Ziva gets into the drivers seat. As they pull onto the road, Tony asks.

"Now what?"

"Now we go back to the house, grab the dog, and our go bags, and keep our promise, at least until we get out of here."

"Our go bags? I don't have a go bag."

"Yes you do."

"I do?"

"I made one for you."

Ten minutes later they arrive home. He grabs the dog. He returns to the garage, and finds Ziva tossing bags into the trunk. He places the dog in the car. Ziva pulls out a screwdriver, and quickly switches the license plates out.

"Peel the paint off," she instructs.

"The paint?"

"They provided us with a car that has special paint," she pulls at the corner, and peels off the magnetic sheet. He does the same. They quickly peel all the sheets off, until the car is black. He hops into the passenger's seat. Moments later she is backing out of the driveway.

"Where are we going?" he questions.

"I don't know," she shrugs.

"Why do I get the feeling that you have done this before?"

"Because maybe I have. Do you doubt that I am who I say I am?"

"No. Not for a second."

"Good, because now were are different people."

"Who are we?"

"Sarah, and Tyler Davidson, from Ohio."

"How did you get fake I.D's?"

"Abby made them, just in case."

"So you always had a plan B?"

"Yes, but only Abby, and I know about it."

"How will she know that it has gone into effect?"

"Because I send her blank emails once a day. If she receives nothing, she will know that the plan has gone into effect, that our cover has been blown."

Hours later, and hundreds of miles later, he looks over at her, in the passenger's seat. Her head leans up against the window. She sleeps, with the dog curled up in her lap. The sun shines through the window. They had been on the road all night. At the last stop, five hours earlier she had agreed to let him take the wheel. It was nearly eight in the morning now. He knows that he should wake her up, but it was hard to, when she was so peaceful looking.

"Hey, wake up," he touches her knee. Her leg is tucked under her butt, and her knee sticks off the edge of the seat.

She opens her eyes, and looks at him. She yawns.

"Where are we?"

"Outside of Memphis."

"Do you want me to drive?"

"No. I'm fine. I got sleep while you were driving."

"A few months ago you would not have been able to that."

"I have learned a lot of things, in the past few months."

"Me, too."

"Are you hungry?"

"No."

"Are you sure? Neither of us have eaten, in over twelve hours. That is definitely a record for me."

"I can go days," she reminds him.

"Can I please get you some breakfast?"

"If you must."

"Can you answer one thing?"

"What's that?"

"How did you fake the pregnancy test? I saw it myself, it was positive. I didn't know there was a way to fake them."

"There's not one, that I know of."

"So how did you do it?"

"I didn't."

"You didn't?" He furrows his brow in confusion.

"I didn't fake it," she answers.


	14. Magic Marker

He pulls into a parking spot, of a fast food restaurant. He puts the vehicle into park, and kills the engine. He just stares at her. He doesn't wait for her to come up with an answer.

"What do you mean you didn't fake it? I just figured that you drew on it with magic marker, or something."

"No, I did not."

"How did you make it come up positive?"

"I peed on it."

"With what?"

She squints, she wonders if he's really serious. "Urine," she answers.

"Whose urine?"

"What do you mean whose urine? It is not like I have someone else's urine taped to my leg, just in case someone asks me to pee on a stick."

"Then how did you make it come up positive?"

"I peed on it," she repeats.

"With your own urine?"

"Yes, I think that we have already established that."

"I don't understand."

"What's not to understand?"

"Are you pregnant?"

"That is what the test would indicate."

"You knew that you were pregnant?"

"Yes."

"How did this happen? Why didn't you tell me? How long have you known?"

"I have known for a while."

"A while, how long is a while?"

"Since I found out."

"Which was how long ago?"

"Months ago."

"Months ago? As in you've known since last month making it..."

She shakes her head before he can finish.

"Months as in, all of May and June?"

"No."

"What is your definition of months? How many months are we talking, here?"

"About three months."

"Three months? Are you serious? You have known for three months? So how far along are you?"

She takes a moment to think, "About four months."

"I simply don't understand. You told me that you could not get pregnant."

"You're angry at me?"

"Did you lie to me?"

"I was told by half a dozen, different physicians that due to the amount of scar tissue I have the chance of me conceiving a child was less than one percent. That is not an exaggeration either, I saw six different doctors. They told me that with fertility treatment it might increase my chances to three to five percent."

"But they were wrong?"

"Apparently, yes," she nods.

"Oh."

"I understand that you are angry, that I didn't tell you."

"Were you ever planning on telling me? Why did you keep it from me that long?"

"Yes, I was planning on telling you, last night. I didn't know how long we were going to be there, and I didn't know how you were going to react."

"Why did you keep it a secret, for that long?"

"I was scared."

"Of what?"

"Of telling you, and then having something happen."

"To the baby?"

"Yes."

"Nothing is going to happen."

"No, everything has been surprisingly normal."

"I see."

"If you're mad at me, just say so. I can finish this on my own. Go back to D.C., and I will finish this. I can do this on my own."

"What makes you think, for a second, that I am going to leave you?"

"You didn't sign up for this. You don't want this. A fake marriage, you can handle, but a real baby, that is a different story, entirely. I am used to handling things on my own."

"I'm not going to leave you."

"But you are angry?"

"Yes, I'm pissed off that you thought you needed to keep it a secret from me. What else

are you hiding?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"I screwed up. I know that."

"I'm not angry because you screwed up, you didn't screw up."

"Then what would you call this? We were supposed to be pretending to be a married couple, and now, we are having a baby. A real one."

"And did you make that baby on your own?"

"No."

"Then stop blaming yourself."

"How? You are going to hate me for this, for the rest of your life. You don't want to be saddled with a kid, that is forever you know. Marriages, they can come, and go, especially fake ones, but a child, that never goes away, it's forever."

"I know that."

"If you don't want to do this, do us both a favor, and just walk away now."

"I am not going to leave you."

"You're sure?"

"I am sure about a lot of things, including the fact that I am an idiot. I have spent every single day with you, and I didn't notice. That is something I should have noticed."

"I didn't want you to notice. That's why I would wake up before you, in the morning."

"You don't look pregnant."

"Probably because I spent two months barfing up my guts."

"That's why you wanted the treadmill? So you could be close to the bathroom?"

"Yes."

"You're really pregnant?"

"Do you need proof?"

"You're going to have to do better than a little plastic stick."

"Ok," she agrees. She unbuckles, and sits the dog on the floor. She bounds over the seat, into the back. She reaches into the trunk, and pulls out a bag. She unzips the side pocket, and pulls something out. She turns around, and climbs back into the front seat. She hands the items to him.


	15. Truth Is

He studies the pictures that she has handed him. He looks over at her, catching her eyes. He smiles.

"It makes sense now."

"What?"

"Why you didn't argue. Any other time you would offer your life in exchange, you would offer both of our lives. You are not afraid to die. I could not understand why you agreed to let him off the hook, why you wanted to run. It makes sense now."

"Did I do the wrong thing?"

"No. You didn't do anything wrong."

"I beg to differ."

"Ziva?"

"Huh?"

"Does this mean that I am off the hook for Valentine's day, from now on?"

"What?"

He points to the sonogram pictures.

"This was a Valentine's day present, wasn't it?"

"As far as I can tell, yes."

"So then I'm off the hook for next Valentines?"

"We'll see."

"So what is our plan? We have to tell someone who he is."

"We can't," she argues.

"Why not?"

"Because he will make good on his promise. He will track us down, and kill us. We have to wait, at least a couple of days, before we make any contact, with anyone."

"How will they know that we're alive?"

"Why do you think that I have cards, instead of cash? Everywhere time these are used Abby is sent a message. She can track us, wherever we go, until we make contact."

"What are we going to do, if they can't catch this guy?"

"We keep running. We will never go back to NCIS."

"That's not what I want."

"It may be our only option, it's not just us we have to consider anymore."

"If we do go back, Gibbs will kill us."

"Probably," she agrees.

"So you're not hiding anything else?"

"Nothing that effects our jobs," she replies.

"Which means that you are hiding something?"

"Do you remember when we went undercover as married assassins?"

"How could I forget?"

"And you tried to picture me pregnant?"

"And you told me not to?"

"Yes," she nods.

"What about it?"

"I tried to picture it to. I thought that I knew how it would be, how I would feel, but I was wrong."

"And why is that?"

"Then, I understood, why Sophie did what she did. Why she would want to go on one last mission, but now, I cannot understand it. It was an incredibly stupid risk to take."

"You would have walked away?"

"I am not saying that it would be easy, by any means, but yes, I would have walked away."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because, right now, I just want to walk away. I just want to go home, where the worst thing we have to worry about, is Gibbs wrath."

"Then we should."

"We can't. I wish that we could, but we can't."

"Ziva?"

"Huh?"

"What happens, when we get back to D.C.?"

"I do not, really know. I guess we figure out how we are going to do this."

"Have a baby?"

She nods.

"So what are you hiding?"

"When we were undercover before, and I told him that we didn't want to know, that we wanted to be surprised, I thought that is how I felt."

"You don't want to be surprised?"

"Do you?"

"Ziva, you should know by now, I really hate surprises."

"That is good to know."

"And why is that?"

"Because I already know."

"Know what?"

"What we're having."

"We're having a baby."

"The gender."

"Oh."

"I should probably wait to share that though."

"Why?"

"Because I can see that you are having a hard time wrapping your head around this."

"Yes, I am."

"So, why don't we go eat? When we're done, if you want to know, I will tell you."

"Fair enough," he agrees, as he gets out of the car.

He follows her into the restaurant. He watches her as she walks. They order, and take a seat at a table. She heads to the bathroom, to pee, before they begin. When she returns he is waiting on her. She sits down, and gives him a questioning look.

"What?"

"Why are you looking at me like that? Why did you wait for me to get back from the bathroom, to start eating? You never do that."

"I am going to start. I should be more considerate of you."

"It's ok if you want to start eating without me. I will not be offended."

"Ok," he shovels food into his mouth.

As he chews he looks at her. She takes a sip of her drink, and furrows her brow at him. She wonders what is going on inside of his head. He answers the question, before she can ask it.

"Yesterday, you said that it was the tan. That's not what is different. That isn't what I was noticing."

"Really, what was it you were noticing?"

"A glow. You knew that is what I would say, which is why, you put words in my mouth. You wanted to prevent my mind from running amuck."

"Yes, I know how your mind works."

"So then you know that I need to know, the other thing too?"

"Yes, I know that."

"Are you going to tell me?"

"I think that you should guess."

"It's a girl!" he insists.

She looks at him in disbelief. He smiles, widely. She swallows, and opens her mouth to speak.

"Why do you think that?"

"It is, isn't it?"


	16. Something About The Suburbs

They pull into a suburban neighborhood. Tony pulls into the driveway of a cookie-cutter house, and she gets out of the car. She pushes four numbers on the keypad. The garage door open roars open. She steps into the garage. Tony pulls the car in behind her. She finds a key in the door, that leads into the house. Tony climbs out of the car. Ziva closes the garage door. Tony grabs the bags, and Lizzie jumps out of the car.

"Come on, Lizzie," Ziva calls as she pushes the door that leads into the house, open. Lizzie follows behind her. Tony carries the bags into the house. He drops the bags on the floor.

"This is the same floor plan, isn't it?" he questions.

"Yup," she nods.

It was as if they had just walked into the house they had lived in for months. The rooms were the same. The paint colors, tile, and cabinets were different. The living room furniture was arranged differently, but it was basically the same house. She comes out of the bathroom. He looks at her.

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know," she shrugs.

"Dinner?"

"I'm not hungry. I think that we have eaten six times today."

"We have only eaten twice."

"So why did we stop six times for food?"

"The rest were just snacks."

"Right," she nods.

"Why are you complaining? You're eating for two."

"I am pregnant, but that does not I should eat twice the amount food."

"I am just trying to take care of you."

"And I appreciate that, but... I will never be able to eat as much as you do."

"You look tired."

"I'm fine."

"You didn't get much sleep."

"Neither did you."

"You have dark circles under your eyes."

"I'm fine."

He flops down on the couch. He turns on the TV. She takes a seat next to him.

"Abby will be calling soon."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because I am just that good."

"You haven't talked to her all day, she'll be worried."

"Yes, and she'll call here."

Tony looks at her doubtfully. She takes the remote from him.

"That's rude."

"I am not watching sports. We listened to what you wanted, in the car."

"I am not watching lifetime," he argues.

She rolls her eyes, and flips through the channels. The cordless phone, in the kitchen begins to ring.

"Are you going to get that?" she looks at him.

"She wants to talk to you, doesn't she?"

"You are so irritating," she vacates her seat on the couch.

She looks at the caller I.D. on the phone, and picks it up, off it's charger. She presses talk, and puts it to her ear.

"Hello?"

"You're alive?"

"You doubted that?"

"Gibbs, and McGee left for Jacksonville this morning. They are there now."

"They won't find him."

"You have a plan?"

"We're in the process of coming up with one."

"You're safe?"

"Yes."

"The safe house is ok?"

"Why did you choose the same floor plan?"

"I just figured that it would be easier. I am sure that the two of you have gotten used to that floor plan. There are a few differences, though."

"Like what?"

"There is a skylight in the bathroom. There are his and hers closets in the master bedroom, instead of just one. Oh there's a basement too. That is where the laundry room is. The bedrooms upstairs are bigger."

"Anything else I should know?"

"You should be at work at eight. Everything is set up for you. They used to use that house as a model home, so there are no empty rooms."

"There is more than one bed?"

"You're tired of sleeping with him?"

"He snores."

"I do not snore nearly as loud as you do," he calls out.

"He makes me wear breathe right strips. He doesn't though. He could wake the dead."

"I'll be in touch."

"Goodbye," Ziva hangs up the phone.

"So what is our plan?"

"Tomorrow I am going to go to work."

"And what am I going to do?"

"Stay home."

"Stay home? Why am I staying home?"

"No one here knows me. People here, might know you."

"You don't have any extra covers, up your sleeve."

"I only had a plan B."

"Come up with a plan C."

"You come up with a plan C, you're going to be home all day."

"How are we going to catch this guy?"

"You think that we should have taken our chances?"

"No. Neither of us were armed. Neither of us were prepared. It would have ended badly."

"Maybe we should stick to the rules."

"Maybe it's time that we make our own."

"What would rule one be?"

"Be prepared for all scenarios."

"You've been stewing on that one, haven't you?"

"Yes. We should have been able to take him down, last night."

"Now we just wait."

"Wait, for what?"

"Abby said that Gibbs, and McGee went to Jacksonville this morning, to investigate. He'll think that we failed to keep out promise, he will come after us."

"Sometimes I hate when you're right."

"You hate when I'm wrong too."

He looks at her, and smiles, "No I don't hate you for that, not for a second."


	17. Bugs

_0600_

_He meets Gibbs in the evidence garage. His bag is packed. Gibbs hands him a cup of coffee, as he climbs into the car._

_"So do we know what happened? Do we know if they're alive?"_

_"McGee, that is why we're headed to the airport. We'll go down there, and see, what is going on."_

_"Ok," he nods._

_"McGee, don't lose faith in them."_

_"Yes boss," he nods, wearily._

_They reach Sarina, and Grayson's house by 0900. Gibbs parks the car in the driveway, and puts on gloves. He punches a password into the keypad on the outside of the garage._

_"How did you know the code?" McGee questions._

_"It's Grayson, and Sarina Archwood's anniversary."_

_"Right, they were trying to blend it, be normal people," McGee nods._

_The door comes open, and they step in. One car sits in the garage. The SUV, is notably missing. McGee points to the floor. Florida plates lie on the floor. Gibbs looks towards the open cabinet._

_"Any idea what was in the cabinet?"_

_"My guess would be go bags. Ziva would have been prepared, in case their cover was blown."_

_McGee moves towards the door to the house. He stops, without touching the lock. He inspects it carefully._

_"It's been picked," he points out._

_Gibbs nods, and they draw their weapons. Tim turns the knob, and pushes the door open. They carefully search each room. _

_"Clear," Gibbs calls from the upstairs._

_"Clear," McGee echoes. _

_"Come up here," Gibbs orders._

_Tim climbs the stairs. He finds Gibbs in the master bedroom. He looks around, at his surroundings. The bed is made. He steps into the closet. Their clothes remain hanging. Shoes, line the bottom of the closet. Gibbs notices the dog bed, at the foot of the bed._

_"They left in a hurry. They didn't even take the dog bed," Gibbs reveals._

_McGee steps into the bathroom. The counter is littered with things. Drawers are pulled open, things are dumped everywhere. He returns to the bedroom. Gibbs snaps pictures, of the open dresser drawers. _

_"Someone was looking for something."_

_McGee wonders across the hall. He finds the treadmill, in the corner, in the up right position. The closet door stands wide open. He moves to the next bathroom, where he finds the same scene as the master bath. Gibbs joins him in the third bedroom. It sits empty. The closet door is open. Inside are a few extra blankets, on the floor, and a couple of board games. _

_"Nothing, boss."_

_Gibbs points to one of the games, on the top shelf. _

_"Operation? Aren't Tony and Ziva a little bit old to be playing operation?"_

_"Tony is kind of childish."_

_"Operation, McGee," he smacks the back of his head._

_McGee retrieves the game. He opens the lid, and finds the game inside, with all of the pieces._

_"Rip it apart," Gibbs demands._

_"Boss?"_

_"I've got a hunch."_

_Tim uses his knife to pop the face off the game. Underneath he finds something extra. He holds it up for Gibbs to see._

_"I don't think that belongs there, does it?"_

_"No the game only requires very simple technology. There is no need for a memory card."_

_"Why are we still standing here? Go plug it in."_

_They return to the car. Tim takes a seat in the passenger's side, and plugs the card into his computer. He pulls the file up on the screen._

_"What is it, McGee?"_

_"A list of names."_

_"Suspects?"_

_"There are two columns. One is a list of suspects. The other is a list of possible aliases. There is one suspect highlighted."_

_"The aliases? Tell me about the aliases."_

_"Sarah, and Tyler Davidson."_

_"Get Abby on there," he insists._

_Moments later Abby's face is on the screen. _

_"Abby, it is time to tell me what you know."_

_"I can't tell you anything while you are there. I need to know that they are safe, before I reveal any information."_

_"Bottom line, Abby?"_

_"I'll tell you, face to face, when you get home," she promises._

_"We'll be back by 1700."_

_"I'll be waiting."_

She wakes up, in a cold sweat. She sits up in bed, gasping for air. Her chest rises and falls rapidly. Her pulse races. The man in bed next to her stirs. He looks at her. She stares back in bewilderment.

"What's wrong?"

"How did he knew who we were?"

"Why does it matter?"

"He couldn't have known."

"What are you saying?"

"He was watching us."

"Probably."

"Not just watching us. He was listening to us."

"How? He never stepped foot in our house."

She tries to think back. For the most part they never talked about their real lives. She pushes the covers aside, and slides out of bed. She races down the stairs, and goes into the kitchen.

"You need a midnight snack?"

"I need a knife," she answers flipping on the light.

He looks at her in bewilderment. She grabs the keys off the counter. She pulls the back off the remote, to the car. She stares at the back of it. He pulls a knife out of the drawer.

"The day I lost the keys?"

She points, "That is not supposed to be there."

She uses the knife, to remove it. She opens the drawer, and pulls out a meat tenderizer. He slips a cutting board on the counter. She places the bug on it, and hits it several times, the pieces fly everywhere. He collects each piece, and then proceeds to flush them down the toilet.


	18. Another Life

"We shouldn't stay here. I think that our cover has been compromised."

"Can you get us I.D's by morning?"

"Why?"

"I've got a buddy, I can call, it will buy us some time. He owes me a favor."

"Ok," she agrees.

"You better round up the dog, we've got another long night ahead of us."

He makes a phone call, and they get into the car. Twenty minutes later they arrive at a car dealership. As they pull in Ziva looks at the clock. Fifteen after midnight. A man walks up to the car. Tony gathers their things and gets out. Ziva grabs Lizzie, and follows Tony's lead.

"Hey Greg. I really appreciate it."

"It's about time you collect," the guy smiles. He hands Tony a set of keys.

"That's her, right there," Greg points to the pick up truck.

"She's a little rough," Tony points out.

"She's got an extended cab, and a lot of miles on her, but she'll get you there. Got a full tank of gas too. There's a map on the front seat."

"Thanks."

"The house might need some work, it's old, but the lights, and the water work."

"I'm sorry to hear about your grandpa."

"He was a hundred, he lived a good life."

"Thanks Greg."

"Don't mention it," he smiles.

They climb into the truck, and head south. Ziva falls asleep within ten minutes. Two hours later he finds himself pulling onto a gravel road. He slows down, as he nears the old farm house. The porch light is on for them. He sends out a text message, and then turns off the truck. He opens the door, and the sound of crickets is overwhelming. There was nothing like the sound of being out in the country, on a warm June night. He carries the bags into the entry way of the old farm house. Lizzie runs inside. He closes the truck doors, on his side of the vehicle, and wonders around to her side. He opens the door, and she doesn't move. He leans over her, and unbuckles her seatbelt. She opens her eyes, and looks at him.

"We're here."

"Where is here?"

"You're tired, we'll discuss it in the morning."

"Mm."

"I'll carry you."

"I'm not an invalid."

"Never said that you were," he lifts her off the seat. He slams the car door behind him. He carries her into the house. He closes the front door behind him. The old screen door creaks as it closes. Lights plugged into outlets, lead their way up the stairs. He makes a left at the top of the stairs. He gently places her on the bed. He slips out of his shoes, and climbs into bed with her. He hears Lizzie running towards them. As he pulls the quilt over them, Lizzie jumps onto the bed. She lands right between them. He leans over, and kisses Ziva's forehead.

"Sleep tight."

"Night," she responds, as she scoots farther down the bed.

When she wakes up she surveys her surroundings. Next to her Tony, and Lizzie snore loudly. She looks down, and finds herself covered in a hand made quilt. The room is simple. She sits up, and looks around. To her right is the door. In front of her is a dresser, with a mirror. In the center of the wall is a door. It is open. Inside she can see a bathtub. To the left of this door is another door. A door she assumes to be a closet door. She stretches, and climbs out of bed.

As her feet hit the wood flooring, it creaks. She stands up, and moves to the window that is placed in the center of another wall. She looks outside. She sees the truck sitting out in front of the house. The long driveway is lined with trees. She cannot see the road, all of the trees are too tall. To the left she sees an old barn. To the left she sees a fenced in field.

She returns to bed. She sits on the edge of the bed. She notices the bedside table in the corner, with a lamp, and an alarm clock. She feels movement in the bed.

"Morning."

"You should get some sleep. You..." she begins to argue.

"I'm fine."

"Where are we?"

"We're still in Ohio."

"Yesterday we were in Columbus, where are we now?"

"About twenty minutes from civilization. Twenty five minutes from here there is a college town. It's not that big, but it is a quiet community, and there are a lot of people coming, and going. We will not seem out of the ordinary."

"So who are we?"

"What time is it?"

"Why?"

"The UPS guy is supposed to stop by, at the end of the drive at seven."

She looks at the clock, "You've got three minutes."

He races down the stairs, and runs out the door. She watches out the window as he jumps into the truck. She rolls her eyes, and wonders down the stairs. She grabs her bag, and returns to the bedroom. She looks at the bathroom. Only a tub, no shower. It would have to do. She turns on the water. By the time she climbs into the tub she can hear the front door closing.

"You still here?" he calls out.

"Where else would I go? There is no where for me to go," she shouts back.

"You could saddle up a horse."

"I doubt that is going to happen, any time soon."

"Where are you?" he wonders as he reaches the top of the stairs.

"In the bathroom," she replies.

He stares at the door. He can see light through the crack. He pushes it open. He looks at her as he leans up against the bathroom counter.

"What are you smiling at?"

"You. Since when do you take baths?"

"I don't, but in case you hadn't noticed there isn't a shower."

"Then you should have looked harder."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"There is a shower in the other bathrooms. Mrs. Parsons always preferred a bath, so her husband left the old tub for her. Their children, and grandchildren all insisted on showers, so their are two."

"Who?"

"The people who used to live here. Greg's grandparents."

"So who are we, today?"

"Rachel, and Matthew Hawk."


	19. Simple Life, and Satellite TV

"We should go for a walk, there's a hundred acres here."

"Why doesn't anyone live in this house?"

"Greg's grandfather lived in this house. He died about a month ago, they want to keep it, but they can't afford the upkeep. Greg's siblings, and cousins agreed that if he could find tenants that they wouldn't sell the house."

"We could go for a walk."

"I'll go get you some clothes."

"Clothes? From where?"

"Greg's grandfather, Tom, he always got annoyed, because people would come to visit him, and they would never bring clothes to work in. He had a buddy who owned a clothing store, so he got a deal on bibs, and boots."

"You're kidding."

"I'll be back," his eyes sparkle as he leaves the room.

He returns with a pair of overalls, and a purple t-shirt for her.

"Bad news, I don't think we'll be going anywhere today."

"And why is that?"

"It just started raining."

"You're afraid of rain?"

"It's a torrential down pour out there."

"Can you find something to do?"

"Why?"

"I would like to relax, and you're not helping."

"Ok," he slinks out of the room.

Her mind wanders back to another rainy day, not so long ago.

_March 17th, 2011_

_She wakes up to the sound of rain, hitting the roof. She rolls over, and finds that Tony is gone. She sits up, realizing that he had told her he had to go in early. On her day off, he had to go in early. She sits up, and goes into the bathroom. She washes her face, and takes a look in the mirror. Her phone vibrates in the other room._

_She grabs the phone and looks at the text from Tony. She locks the screen, and notices the date. She quickly showers, and runs to the store. Within forty minutes she's back in the bathroom. She sits on the lid of the toilet. _

_Most things in her life were unpredictable. Most things were unsteady, and irregular. There was one thing that was not, ever. Most women wouldn't think twice, if their period was a day late. To her, it was a huge red flag. The timer on her phone beeps. She stands up, and makes her way over to the counter._

_She stares at the tiny plastic stick, in disbelief. A little plus sign glares up at her. How could this happen? It was not supposed to happen, ever. When could it have happened? They had been careful. Hadn't they? She thinks back. Valentine's day! But she had gotten her period after that, hadn't she? Maybe she just thought it was her period, maybe it wasn't. Her thoughts run rampant._

_This was bad, so bad. She had to.. she stops herself. She didn't have to do anything. In fact, she didn't want to do anything. She didn't know if she could tell him. She didn't know if he could handle it, but it didn't matter. It didn't matter how long they were going to be undercover, because she was going to do this. Obviously, it was meant to be, somehow. She would find a way to make it work._

She snaps back to reality as Lizzie barks at her. She looks down at the growing white dog. She was now a hefty twelve pounds. She ate like Tony, and it showed.

"What?" Ziva questions.

The barking stops. She looks up at Ziva, and wags her tail. Ziva points to the ground. Lizzie takes a seat. Ziva pulls the plug, and grabs a towel. She climbs out of the bathtub, and pulls on a pair of sweats, instead of the overalls that Tony had brought her. She pulls her hair up into a clip, and leaves the bathroom. She flips off the light on her way out. She leaves the bedroom, and heads down the stairs.

She is not surprised when she finds Tony laying on the couch. He stares at the blank T.V. screen. She points to the TV.

"Is it broken?"

"I don't know," he shrugs. The T.V. looks like a monster, it is as deep as it is wide.

She rolls her eyes, and grabs a remote that lays nearby. She plops down next to him. She flips the T.V. on. His eyes light up, when he sees the crystal clear picture.

"Satellite," he smiles.

"I'm not going to be able to convince you to do anything today, am I?"

"Nope."

"So, what do we do?"

"What do you mean?"

"What are our jobs?"

"We're farmers."

"Farmers? Really?"

"Hence the farm."

"What do we farm?"

"Chickens, goats, and cows. And, we grow our own food."

She laughs, hysterically.

"What is so funny?"

"Like you know how to grow anything."

"And you think that you do?"

"I never claimed to."

"Are you hungry? I can make you breakfast."

"Who has been taking care of the animals the past month?"

"Tom's daughter, she lives next door."

"Next door? I didn't know there was a next door."

"Oh, ye of little faith."

"So are you going to make me breakfast, or not?"

"Yes," he hops off the couch.

He opens the fridge and pulls out eggs. He turns on the stove, and puts a skillet on.

"How do you like your eggs?" he questions.

"Cooked, if you don't know beyond that by now, I can't help you."

"Fair enough."

"It's so peaceful here."

"That's because you were dead to the world this morning, when the rooster started crowing."

"How did I sleep through that?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, "You are becoming a much heavier sleeper."

"It's old age," she jokes.

"Ha, ha."

"Hurry up!"

"Is my baby hungry?"

"Since when do you call me baby?" she raises an eyebrow.

He turns around and points to her stomach, "I wasn't calling you baby. I meant the actual baby."

"Right," she nods.

"You have forgotten about the actual baby, already?"

"No, I just don't think about it much, unless I am looking in the mirror."

"At what? There's nothing to see."

"You don't notice a difference?"

"Not really," he shrugs.

"You are such a man."


	20. One Reason, To Stay

He takes a long look at her.

"The only thing I notice is the boobs," he admits.

She looks down. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You actually have some now."

"Remind me why I am here with you, again?"

"Because you're stuck with me. You can't seem to get away from me."

"Yes, that's it."

"Do you ever what it would be like, if this really was our life?"

"If we were married? I mean, we are really having a baby."

"If we lived in Ohio, on a farm. We'd always have each other, and food in our stomachs, and a roof over our head. We'd work hard, but people wouldn't shoot at us on a daily basis, unless we crossed onto their property. A simple life."

"Not that simple, there's satellite."

"You catch my drift."

"I think that I could get used to it."

"We'd raise some cows, and a couple of kids."

"This would be a nice place to raise a child."

"We could let her run off and play, and not have to worry about someone stealing her out of our own yard."

"Who knows, if we don't find this guy, this may be it, for us."

"Would you be miserable?"

She meets his eyes. She smiles, "No."

"Are you sure? This is..."

"I could get used to it. My priorities are changing."

"Life's funny that way."

"Yes," she agrees.

He places a plate of eggs in front of her. He sits down next to her. She pours a glass of milk. He watches her as she eats.

"Were you starving?"

"Not me..."

"The baby?"

She nods.

"I see."

She doesn't take his eyes off her. She swallows, and meets his glance.

"What?"

"Nothing, I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"I love you."

She stares at him in silence. She puts down her fork, and tilts her head.

"Did you hear me?"

"I am not deaf."

"This isn't Grayson, or Tyler, or Matthew talking to you. This is me. I love you."

"That is good to know."

"Because we're having a child together?"

"Because I feel the same."

"You do?"

"Yes, Tony, I love you."

"Before we agreed to go undercover, neither of us would have ever said that. Neither of us wanted to admit that. We were both looking in different directions."

"I didn't want it to be true."

"But?"

"The first day, that we were in Jacksonville. When we went to work, and you introduced me as your wife..."

"What about it?"

"I can always tell when you're lying."

"Yeah, so?"

"You turned to the guy, and said, 'I'm the luckiest guy on the planet, because I'm married to my best friend,' and I knew that you were telling the truth. That's when things started changing for me. That's when I started seeing you in a different light."

"Oh."

"And to be perfectly honest, I don't really know that I want to go back."

"Why not?"

"When we go back, things will be different. We will be asked to play NCIS agents, but we have changed. We aren't the same people that we were, just a few short months ago."

"We can stay here forever, if you want."

"I would never ask that," she admits.

"You don't have to, if it's what you want, that is what we'll do."

"I just...I keep thinking about what the future holds."

"The baby?"

"I don't want to leave her in the morning to go to work, and have her worry whether or not we're going to come home to tuck her in. I don't want her to worry that we might go to work, and never come back."

"I don't want that either."

"I don't know how to protect her from that, when we go back."

"You can't protect her from everything. We are certainly going to want to, but if she's anything like you..."

"Don't go there," she warns.

"You'd rather she be like me? Hyperactive?"

Someone knocks at the door. Ziva instantly draws her weapon. As Tony moves to the door he shakes his head. He peers out the door, and motions for Ziva to put her weapon down. He pulls the door open. A woman in her thirties steps through the door. She hands DiNozzo a homemade pie.

"I thought that I'd welcome the two of you two the neighborhood," she smiles.

"Thanks," he motions for him to follow him into the kitchen.

"I'm Grace by the way, I live across the road."

"You and your husband farm?"

She nods, "We have a orchard."

"I'm Matthew, and this is my wife Rachel."

Grace holds out a hand, "Nice to meet the two of you."

"You're probably wondering what brought us here? Right?"

"I know that Greg was trying to get the place rented out, but the two of you, don't seem like farmers."

Tony answers quickly, "We're not, but we needed a change of pace. We thought that it would do us some good to get out of the city, and put down some roots."

"I know how that is. My husband and I had no idea how to take care of a farm when we got here. We could barely keep our house plant alive."

"You're not from here?" Ziva questions.

"I grew up about twenty minutes away. I went to college, and then headed to New York. That's where I met my husband. We were married for, six years before we moved back."

"What made you come back?" Tony wonders.

"I found out that I was pregnant with our daughter, Emily, and we decided that we would rather raise her here."

"How old is your daughter?"

"Six. She belongs here. She loves everything about living here. She likes to ride horses, and play out in the woods. It's nice, to know that kids can still be innocent. My little boy, wants to grow up, and be a farmer. He's four, and I think he could drive the tractor, better than I can. So what brings the two of you here, exactly?"

Tony looks at Ziva, Ziva looks at Grace. She smiles, and answers Grace's question.

"The same thing, I guess. We've been married for four years. We hadn't really discussed what would happen when we started a family. We were both so busy with our careers that we hadn't given it much thought. Which was a mistake, because neither of us were prepared when we found out I was pregnant. We certainly hadn't planned it, so... we spent months talking about..."

DiNozzo cuts her off, "Talking about? We argued for months about the best place to raise our child. Somehow, I won."


	21. Unreal

She wakes up wrapped in a sheet, and tangled in limbs. She lays on her side. His arm reaches across her body. His hand rests on her stomach. Her hand rests under his. She opens her eyes, and wriggles out from under his arm. She rolls over, and faces him. He sleeps soundly. His arm reaches around her again. This time it rests on her butt. She tries to move his hand.

"Stop moving," he insists.

"Move your arm," she retorts.

He pulls his arm away from her. He opens his eyes. He peers past her at the clock. Five fifteen. They should still be asleep.

"Why are you awake?" he questions.

"You produce a lot of heat, I was hot."

"Then take off your clothes," he suggests.

"You would like that, wouldn't you?"

"Why are you being cranky?"

"Because I woke up, and you had your arm around me."

"Do you need to go somewhere?"

"No."

"So what was the problem? We sleep like that almost every night."

"I know."

"So aren't you used to it by now?"

"I woke up and your hand was on me."

"Sorry? I'll keep my hands to myself. Why are you upset that I was touching you?"

"I am not upset that you were touching me."

"It certainly seems like you are."

"I guess I just didn't expect to wake up, and have you..."

"Have me what?"

"Your hand was on my stomach."

"So?"

"I just..."

"You just what?"

"I guess that I'm just not ready yet."

"Ready for what?"

"To admit that it's real. That there really is something in there."

"You've had months to get used to that idea."

"I know, but it is still surreal."

"You're scared?"

She nods.

"Of what?"

"That I'll do something wrong."

"Like what?"

"I don't know," she shrugs, "I am not very good at just sitting around doing nothing."

"No one is asking you to."

"I don't know how to slow down."

"Why are you afraid of slowing down? It isn't a bad thing?"

"I don't like what happens when I slow down."

"What do you mean?"

"I just can't seem to turn the thoughts in my head off. If I am busy, if I focus on something else, then I can ignore them."

"What thoughts?"

"All of them."

"What thoughts?"

"What if I do something to screw this up? What if..."

"You won't. Nothing is going to happen, to anyone. Is that why you waited so long to tell me? You were afraid that you would do something that would cause you to lose the baby?"

She shrugs, "I don't know. I am afraid that this is a mistake."

"What is a mistake? You think that we made a mistake? You think this baby is a mistake? Why would you think that?"

"Do you think that God makes mistakes?"

"Why would you ask that?"

"Because I feel like I don't deserve this. I don't..."

"Don't deserve what? You don't deserve to be happy? You do. The person hardest on you, is you."

"But..."

"God doesn't make mistakes."

"How can you say that? After all of the evil, cold-blooded, heartless people that you have met? How can you believe that?"

"There is good, and there is evil, but..."

"But what?"

"Everyone is given chances in life, to become more than they are, more than they are ever supposed to be. Most people choose not to take those chances."

"How am I supposed to do this? I can fake a lot of things, but... this isn't one of them. I have no idea how I am supposed to be someone's parent. I am not self-sacrificing, I am not..."

"You are not a lot of things, but you are going to be great."

"How can you say that? I am a wreck. I am... damaged goods."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Yes."

"I didn't know, you knew that, so you could have chosen for me to never find out. I never had to know, no one ever had to know. Why did you make the decision not to go that way?"

"I don't know."

"Yes you do. You know why you do everything."

"I was afraid that you would find out and hate me."

"Since when have you ever been afraid of that? It was more than that, wasn't it?"

"I guess that I thought that..." she trails off.

"That what?"

"I didn't care what you thought. I do, but this time it didn't matter. I didn't really care if you liked it or not, because I was going to do it anyway."

"Why?"

"Because I wanted to."

"You want this. You want her. Stop doubting yourself. Stop worrying about everything. This is not how anyone expected things to go. This was not part of the plan. I understand that, but you have to understand that, things are going to work out. You and I, we screw up, a lot. We have made a lot of mistakes, to get where we are now. I wouldn't take back a single one of them, because then we wouldn't be here. I am sure that we are going to make more mistakes in the future, but... that isn't what is important. It isn't about the mistakes that you make, but what you learn from them. We shouldn't have let ourselves get so caught up. We should not have let out guards down. You never should have slept with me. I never should have fallen in love with you. There are a lot of things that never should have happened, but this," he points to her stomach, "this was meant to be. That is clear. Sometimes it takes impossible things to happen, for us to realize who we are."


	22. Dreams

"I hope you know that I don't regret any of this. I wouldn't take any of it back, even if I could. I wouldn't trade a thing."

"I never should have asked you to..."

"I am glad that you did."

"Why?"

"Because it made me realize that I love you."

"But... how?"

"How? What do you mean, how?"

"You have seen all of me. You have seen me at my worst. You know things about me, that I am not even sure that I know about myself. You know more about me, than anyone else knows about me. You know all of the things that I have done, all of the mistakes I have made, all of the lives I have taken. How can you love me? How can you love that?"

"You're not perfect, and you don't pretend to be, that is one of things that I love about you. Most of all, what I love is that you were supposed to be someone else. There was a road laid out in front of you, and you chose to go a different way. You looked at who you were supposed to be, and refused to accept it. You did not want to be a monster. You did not want to be cold, and unfeeling. You wanted more. You wanted what we all want. You wanted to have the American dream."

"The American Dream speech, again?"

"This isn't the same speech," he promises.

"Then go ahead."

"You wanted to be able to be who you are. You wanted someone who would love you for who you were. You didn't want to have to hide pieces of yourself, to be happy. You wanted to wake up in the arms of someone you love, and never doubt their loyalty, or their love. You wanted something that you never really got to have."

"And what is that?"

"A family. A family that was strong, and close, and couldn't be torn apart. A family who would never ask you to kill for them, or die for them, but you would, just the same. A family who would not crumble around you."

She nods. She looks at him, with tears in her eyes. He was the only person, in the whole world who could really see her. He was the only one who could see past the tough exterior, to the truth in her. She didn't know how he could do it, and she didn't really care. All she knew is that she never wanted this to end. She didn't want to go back to working with him, to just being his partner. She wanted more.

He smiles at her, and brushes the hair out of her eye, tucking behind her ear. He kisses her forehead. He wraps his arm around her. He closes his eyes.

"Now go back to sleep, weary one," he insists.

She closes her eyes, and falls asleep. For the first time, in a very long time, she dreams. A dream, not a nightmare. She dreams of something pleasant, instead of pictures from the past that she can't get out of her head.

_She walks out the back door of the farm house. Fields to the left, and too the right. She walks into the backyard. She finds Tony standing next to a tree. He smiles, and waves at her. The old barn sits to her right, and the pasture to her left. She hears cows mooing, and someone laughing. She walks towards sturdy old tree, one of many in the backyard. _

_She watches as a tire swing flies back and forth. She is greeted by the sweetest smile that she has ever seen. A little girl with hazel eyes smiles at her. Her dark hair is secured into two, long braids. She wears pink rain boots, and a pink t-shirt. Her overalls are covered in mud._

_She laughs as Tony pushes her on the tire swing. She looks at Ziva._

_"Higher!" she insists._

_"I can't push you any higher," Tony argues._

_"Daddy!" she shrieks. _

_"Why don't you show your mom your new thing?"_

_The swing comes to a stop. The girl, of about seven, climbs out of the swing. She puts her feet into it, and stands up. She holds onto the ropes. Tony pushes her. As she flies through the air on the swing Ziva notices the holes in the knees of her clothes. She notices the scratches on her hands, and the bruise on her arm. Tony follows her line of sight. He stops the swing. _

_He scolds the little girl, "I thought I told you stay out of the briar patch."_

_"But Lizzie got stuck," she argues._

_"She sure does get stuck in the briar patch a lot. You would think that she would learn."_

_"Yup, you would think," the little girl agrees._

_"Don't lie," Ziva warns._

_"There was a frog," the little girl admits._

_"Why is it that on a hundred acres your favorite place to play is in a briar patch?"_

_"Cause she's your daughter," Tony answers. _

_"No. I just try to get through the briar patch, to the other side. If you would get rid of it, I wouldn't have scratches all the time."_

_"You heard her, get rid of the briars," Ziva laughs._

The sound of the rooster wakes her up. She covers her head with a pillow. Suddenly all of the covers are yanked off of her. She rolls over, and looks at him angrily. He stands at the end of the bed.

"Get up!"

"Why?"

"We have chores to do."

"That's what you're wearing?"

"What is wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"I just never pictured you in a cowboy hat."

"I never pictured you having my baby."

"I guess that life is full of surprises."

"Come on, get up."

"I'm coming," she chucks a pillow at his head.

Twenty minutes later he waits outside the bathroom door. He knocks on the door.

"Did you fall in?" he questions.

"No."

"What is taking you so long?"

"I don't like the way these look."

"So don't wear them."

"What else am I going to wear?"

"You have a bag full of clothes, right here."

"None of them fit."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Well it's true."

"Come out here, I'm sure that it can't be that bad."

She pulls the door open. She steps out, in a pair of overalls. Her face is scrunched in dissatisfaction. He smiles at her, and then laughs.

"Why are you laughing?"

"You look cute."

"Cute?"

"Why do you think you look bad?"

"Are you seeing the same picture that I am seeing?"

He smiles, "Get used to it."

She looks down. Her stomach was not that large. She was used to her abdomen being toned, and firm. Instead of rounded, and... She sighs. There was no use hiding it, anymore. She was four and a half months pregnant.

He looks at her. If he didn't know her, it wouldn't even be noticeable. He had known girls in college, with a beer gut larger than that. It was a tiny bump. He knew to her it seemed worse than it really was. It was not going to be easy. She was not going to like the changes. She would have a hard time dealing with each additional pound.


	23. Reunion

He doesn't take his eyes off her, as he walks down the driveway, with the mail. She sits on the porch steps, brushing the dog. Her hair is braided behind her. Her cotton dress clings to her in the July heat. She looks up, at him, realizing that he is watching her. She smiles, and rolls her eyes at him. He reaches the porch, and starts up the stairs. He stops when he reaches the step she is sitting on. He tucks the mail under his arm. He reaches down for her. She pushes his hand away. She pushes herself off the ground.

He makes his way over to the porch swing, she joins him. He hands her the mail. She stretches out, across the swing. Her feet rest on him. He just watches her as she thumbs through the mail. Without looking up she informs him, "You know that the potatoes aren't going to peel themselves."

"Potatoes? It's too hot for potatoes. Can't we just have popsicles, and ice cream for dinner?"

"You would like that wouldn't you?"

"You wouldn't?"

She looks down at her stomach. Her hand lowers. It stops on her stomach. She smiles at him.

"I don't think that I need anymore ice cream."

"Maybe the baby wants some."

"I don't think that she cares what I eat."

The phone inside the house starts ringing. He slides out from under her legs, and makes his way into the couch. She can hear him through the open window.

"Hello? Hi, Ed. Yeah? Why are you calling from work? Uh huh. Ok. Thanks. Bye."

He hangs up the phone, and returns to the porch. He stops in the doorway.

"Hey, sweet-cheeks, you need to come inside."

"Why?"

"In, now!"

She gets off the porch swing, and steps into the house. Lizzie follows behind her.

"What's going on?"

"Ed just called."

"The post-master? Why did he call?"

"Some guy has come into town. He's looking for us.""He found us?"

"Ed said that Chris is on his way over."

"It's almost eight," she points out.

"I know. Maybe we hadn't been gone all day we would have known."

"We were at an auction all day," she reminds him.

"Stupid cows."

"Stupid cows pay the bills," she smiles.

"We should check on the horses, in the barn. We should probably go up in the hay loft, and make sure all the lights are off."

"Yes," she agrees.

They head out the door to the barn. They climb the ladder, up to the hay loft. The open the door at the top of the barn, and turn off the light. The sit, and wait, in the dark. They listens to the fauna around them. Headlights come down the drive. They flicker. Someone gets out of the car, and closes the door. He doesn't head for the house, instead he makes a beeline for the hay loft. A twenty something, small town cop joins them. They wait with their weapons.

"I think that he was following me. Lost him, a few miles back. He'll be here soon."

"He's not expecting a trap," DiNozzo points out.

"No. He thinks that I came here to warn you, but he figures that you won't have enough time."

"That is the one benefit of living out here. Everyone knows when there is someone who doesn't belong."

"You guys obviously don't need me. You have it covered," he points to their weapons.

Tony smiles, "This isn't our first rodeo."

"I know that the two of you think I'm just some hick cop, but I do actually know what I am doing. I am good at my job. That's why I know that the two of you aren't former bankers."

"What tipped you off?" Tony questions.

"The fourth of July. When we all went out for target practice."

"And she schooled all of you," Tony beams.

"Yeah. You don't learn to shoot that well, that quickly."

"We've been after this guy for five months."

"You're ready for it to be over?"

"He's killed a lot of people, and we're the ones who got away. Now he's coming to finish the job."

"Is he working alone?"

"He is the grunt. Someone pulls his strings, that much we know."

"You know who?"

"We catch him, and he'll lead us to whoever it is."

Another set of headlights come down the driveway.

"Show time."

"We take him alive," Tony clarifies.

"Understood," Chris nods.

The man gets out of the truck, and heads towards the house. When he opens the door the alarm goes of. He steps back, and looks around. He steps off the porch. Tony looks to Ziva.

"You got it?"

"Yes," she answers confidently.

"Take it," he nods.

She takes the shot, hitting the assailant in the knee caps. He falls to the ground. Tony, and Chris rush out of the building. Ziva watches from the hayloft. She covers them as they move towards the man. The man points at them. They point weapons back at him.

"Drop it!"

He puts his finger on the trigger. Chris kicks the weapon out of his hand. He makes sure that Tony's weapon is still trained on him. He quickly cuffs the guy.

"You got it from here, Chris?"

"Doctor Middleton will meet me. He'll pull the bullet out, bandage him up, and he'll be good as new."

"Thanks. I'll see you in the morning."

The police officer hauls the man off, in the back of his police car. Ziva comes out of the hayloft. She joins Tony in the house. The phone rings as they enter. Tony grabs the phone.

"Are you guys ok? I just got word that Brad Preston was spotted in the area."

"Abs we're fine. We got him. The local LEO took him in."

"I'll let Gibbs know, he'll be there first thing in the morning."

"Night Abs."


	24. Occupational Accident

Tony is waiting on the porch, when Jethro pulls up. Gibbs gets out, and is greeted by Lizzie.

"Where's McGremlin?"

"Taking the suspect in."

"I see."

"I see that the two of you really got in to it," he points to the dog.

"Yeah, we had a little misunderstanding, she felt bad, so she apologized with a dog."

"What did she do? Wait, I don't want to know. I don't want to know if she stabbed you, or shot you, or anything she did to you. I don't want to know anything that happened."

"I think we have things we need to talk about," Tony argues.

"DiNozzo I don't need to know what went on. All that matters is that you caught the guy."

"Yeah."

"I would like to know why he let the two of you go in the first place."

"You should ask Ziva, she tells the story better."

"Where is she?"

"In the house, she should be coming."

"She knew I was coming, didn't she?"

"Yeah, she's awake."

He yells towards the house, "Ziver, hurry up."

"I'll be there in a minute," she calls back.

"What's taking her so long?"

"She moves a little bit slower now a days."

"She's gotten used to country living?"

"Um, not exactly. It's more due to a little occupational accident."

"What kind of an accident?"

"One that was completely my fault."

"What are we talking about here?"

"You'll see."

"Tell me DiNozzo. I mean an occupational accident is a gunshot wound, or a blown cover."

"It's neither of those things."

"I'm actually surprised that you're still alive."

"And why is that, Boss?"

"I figured that she would have killed you by now."

"We have learned to get along."

"I doubt that."

"We have learned how to live with each other," he clarifies.

"You reached some sort of understanding?"

"All sorts of them," he smiles like a Cheshire cat.

"Don't go there. I don't want to know about how committed the two of you were to your roles."

"I think that we should discuss it."

"Why? What is there to discuss? The mission is over. The two of you are going to come home, and get back to your jobs, as NCIS agents."

"Speaking of which, how many did you go through while we were gone?"

"Twelve?"

"Just twelve? I would have figured more than that. I mean that's only six a piece."

"No, twelve, a piece."

"You went through twenty four people, in five months?"

"Good agents are hard to come by. Especially when the boss wants you to fail."

"You think he did this to tear the team apart?"

"The thought has crossed my mind."

"Mine too."

"Tony is there a black hole that she could have fallen into? Maybe a well out back? She is usually ready before you are."

"She's up before I am. I mean she was up at 0500 this morning."

"Your snoring?" Gibbs assumes.

"Among other things. Apparently she forgot to slap my breathe right strip on last night. And of course the Rooster is temperamental. He was up at 0500 this morning too."

"The rooster? How do you sleep through that?"

"I have learned to tune it out. Apparently she can't. Just like the dog barking, it wakes her up, but it doesn't wake me up."

"So what are the two of you going to do with the dog?"

"We'll share custody."

Lizzie sits next o Tony, she stares at Jethro, wagging her tail. Tony looks down at the puppy. He smiles.

"Lizzie, where is your mommy? Go find her."

She races off. She bounces up the stairs of the porch, and runs into the house. The screen door is propped open, with a pair of boots. They hear barking coming, from inside. Then they hear Ziva's voice.

"Lizzie, stop it. I am coming."

The barking stops. "Lizzie let go of my pant leg."

Tony smiles at Gibbs, "She's a regular Lassie."

A toy squirrel flies past Tony's head. Jethro catches it in mid-air. Lizzie comes running. She stops, and looks at Jethro. She raises up on her find paws, and begs.

"Lizzie, sit," DiNozzo commands.

She parks it.

"Smart girl," Gibbs laughs, "Here you go," he hands her the toy.

Gibbs opens the back door of the car. Lizzie jumps into the car. Tony loads the bags into the trunk.

"It's hot out here, go get your partner," Gibbs insists.

"I really think we should have a discussion, before I go get her."

"And why is that?"

"There are just some details, about the mission that you should know."

"I'm sure that she is willing to fill me in, on the road."

"Get in the car, I'll go get her."

"Ok," Gibbs agrees.

Gibbs climbs into the drivers seat. Tony rounds up Ziva, and heads to the car. He climbs into the front seat. Ziva climbs into the back. Gibbs turns on the car, and heads down the driveway. When he reaches the end of the driveway he looks in his rearview mirror.

"You ok, back there, Ziva?"

"Fine," she answers.

He glances back at her, and then turns around. After a moment to process what he's seen, he takes another look. He turns around, and puts the car into park.


	25. Admission Of Guilt

"That's what you were trying to tell me DiNozzo?"

"You didn't tell him?" Ziva questions.

"I tried, he didn't want to hear it."

"I want to know why no one told me this. Do you really think that I would have allowed Director Vance to send the two of you on what he considered a suicide mission, if I had known that she was pregnant?"

"Why did you let him send us, in the first place?"

"Why didn't you tell me before you left?" he looks at Ziva.

"I didn't know, when I left."

"You found out, afterwards?"

"Yes," she admits.

"Why didn't you tell me? I would have gotten the two of you out."

"I thought that it was better that you didn't know."

"Better that I didn't know I had a pregnant agent undercover, in harms way? How was that better?"

"That's why he let us go, because she was pregnant."

"DiNozzo, I understand why she didn't say anything, but you should have told me."

"I didn't know. She didn't tell me, until the night that we were hijacked."

"Why not? You didn't think that your partner should know that you were pregnant?"

"Gibbs, it is not that simple."

"Does whats-his-face know?"

"Who?" Ziva raises an eyebrow.

"Ray? I assume that he is the father, isn't he?"

"No," Ziva's tone changes.

"What do you mean no, Agent David?"

"I didn't know before I left, because I wasn't pregnant before I left."

"This happened while the two of you were undercover?"

"Yes."

"So why wouldn't you tell your partner?"

"I didn't want him distracted. I didn't think that he would be able to focus, if he knew. I was... I didn't know what to do. I did not know how he would react."

"Since when have you ever been worried how he would react? He's your partner, it's his job to have your back, no matter what."

"That wasn't what I was worried about. I was afraid that if he knew the truth, that our cover would be blown."

"And why is that?"

"He's overprotective."

"What were the two of you thinking? How did this happen?"

"Like I said, boss, I take full responsibility for this."

Gibbs looks at Tony, and then to Ziva. It finally sinks it.

"Ziva? Who is the father?"

She doesn't answer him.

"The two of you, are having a baby?" he questions.

"It was an accident," DiNozzo defends.

"An accident? Is that the occupational accident you were talking about DiNozzo?"

"Yes."

Gibbs slaps him on the back of the head. Tony looks at him.

"What was that for?"

Gibbs turns around and points at Ziva, "That is more than an occupational accident."

"We screwed up," Ziva admits.

"Damn right!"

"We didn't mean for it to happen. It was..."

"It was not his fault. It was mine. I never should have... it never should have happened. We should have been more careful. We should have been more focused on the case than..."

"You caught him, didn't you?"

"He almost got away. He almost killed us. We screwed up," Tony reveals.

"Yeah, you did. Don't do it again."

"What's that mean boss?"

"DiNozzo, it means, don't screw this up, too. You only get one shot at this. Do it right."

"What are you saying?"

"The two of you should... give me a couple of days to talk to the director. Hopefully he'll give you your badges back."

"You should be angrier. Why aren't you?"

"It wasn't your fault. I mean, you have to be held responsible for your actions, but the two of you did not get into this situation on your own. I told Leon that it was a bad idea. I know how these things work. When you are undercover with someone that long... the lines begin to blur. Feelings... they become harder, and harder to hide, to avoid. When you spend every waking moment with someone, for a period of time that long, things are bound to happen. When your lives are in each other's hands every single day, when that is the only person you can count on... I am not saying that I expected this, but I didn't expect the two of you to return to me, the same people that left."

"Did McGee miss us?"

"It was starting to get to him," Jethro admits.

"And Abby?"

"Will probably hold you hostage for about a month."

"What about you, boss?"

"The two of you do stupid things. You take risks, that other people, in their right minds, would not take. You argue, and fight, but at the end of the day, there's no replacing the two of you. You're a team. You're partners. True partners. A pair of people who would die for each other, kill for each other. No one else seemed to meet those same standards."

"Aw, Ziva he missed us."

"How long were the two of you down there, before this happened?"

"You shouldn't ask questions that you don't want to know the answer to," Tony warns.

"How long?"

"Valentine's day," Tony replies.

"You were there two days? Long enough to realize that you weren't operating under my rules anymore. I thought that you'd at least give it a week."

"We also learned that there are rules for a reason. We didn't necessarily operate under your rules, but we did decided that we needed some rules, to keep us on track."

Gibbs smiles, "I don't think that it worked."

"Maybe not," Tony agrees.

"Are we going to go, now?"

"Did you pee, before you left the house?" Tony inquires.

"Yes," she responds.


	26. Home

They find themselves in the elevator at NCIS. Gibbs gets off, and they head to Abby's lab. Tony flips the switch of the elevator.

"Zi?"

"Huh?"

"You weren't ready to leave, were you?"

"I was tired of being undercover," she admits.

"But you didn't want to leave."

"Does it matter?"

"It got to you, didn't it?"

"Maybe, a little."

"Grace was right, wasn't she?"

"We'll never know, will we?"

"Are you going to be ok?"

"Of course."

"Are you sure?"

"We're home now. I'll be fine."

"So are you going to marry me?"

"Why are you asking?"

"I was just curious."

"Why? We have spent the past five months married. Do you really want to spend the rest of you life married, to me?"

"Yes, I thought that I made that abundantly clear."

"I don't want a shotgun wedding."

"Do you even know what that is?"

"I am not going to get up, in front of anyone, and recite vows, in a dress, pregnant. It simply is not going to happen."

"When, then?"

"When I'm ready."

"You're not ready yet?"

"Not quite."

"Fair enough," he nods.

He flips the elevator back on. It stops, and the door open. He makes his way into Abby's lab.

"Excuse me, can you tell me where I can find the closest forensic scientist."

She spins around, with a big smile on her face. He takes two steps towards her, and is enveloped in her hug.

"Tony! I missed you."

He looks at the pictures, and the calendar.

"I can see that," he comments as she lets go of him.

"Where is Ziva? Did something happen to her? Tony, if you let something happen to her I am going to kill you."

"Calm down, Abs she's using the bathroom."

"Oh. So she's ok?"

"I think so."

"You think so?"

"I just saw her a minute ago, she was fine then."

"I need to see her."

"I'm sure that she'll be out in a minute."

"So did anything happen between the two of you, while you were pretending to be a married couple, for five months?"

"Well technically we were three married couples, in five months."

"And?"

"And we slept in the same bed every night. What do you think?"

"Just tell me."

"I'll let Ziva answer that for you."

"Answer what?" she questions as she moves towards them.

"Come in here," he begs.

She steps through the doorway. She stops when she reaches them. She stands next to Tony. Abby stares at her in disbelief. She points, "I don't think that was part of the cover."

Ziva smiles, "No, it most certainly was not."

"You're pregnant?"

"Yes," she nods.

"When did that happen?"

"Um... about five months ago."

"Does Gibbs know?"

"Know what Abby?" Tony inquires.

"About five months ago, I assume that means that the two of you are... am I wrong?"

"Are you ever?" Tony quips.

"Rarely," Abby replies.

"Abby you are not incorrect in your assumption."

"The two of you are having a baby? Does Vance know?"

"No."

"Are you going to tell him?"

"Gibbs wants to tell him, give him a couple of days to cool off. We just stopped in to say hi."

"Zi, we should get going."

"Yes," she agrees, "Lizzie will be waiting."

"Why didn't you bring her with you? And why did you tell me about the dog, and not the baby?"

"Abby, we love you, but... you would have told Gibbs," Tony smiles.

"Fair enough."

They leave the Navy yard, in separate cars. He heads back to his place, and she goes back to hers. When she arrives at her apartment she is greeted by Lizzie. She makes dinner, watches some TV, and then showers, and heads to bed. She tosses and turns for nearly an hour. Lizzie lays next to her, whining. She grabs the phone off the beside stand. She dials a familiar number.

"Hello?" he answers.

"Are you asleep?" she queries.

"No, you?"

"No. I'm coming over," she informs him, as she climbs out of bed.

"What are you wearing?" he wonders.

"Does it matter?"

"Come open the door, and I'll tell you."

"Open the door?"

"Please."

She moves to the door. She pulls the door to her apartment open. He smiles at her from the other side. He flips his phone closed she hangs hers up.

"What are you doing here?"

"I guess I am just so used to sleeping with you, that I don't know how to without you."

"You are not the only one."

"You said you just wanted to come home, and sleep in your bed."

"Please come in, and join me."

"Gladly."

"For the record I am not the only one who was hoping to see you tonight."

He closes, and bolts the door behind him. He follows her into the bedroom. On the center of her bed he sees a white dog, who wags her tail at him. He climbs in bed. They snuggle under the covers. Lizzie lays between them, on top of the covers.

"It's nice to know I am needed."

"Always," she answers as she rolls over, into his arms, and closes her eyes.


	27. Aha Moments

She rolls over and looks at the clock. She grabs the ringing phone, and pulls it to her ear.

"Hello?" she answers.

"Get your partner, and get down to the Navy yard. We've got a dead Marine."

"Ok," she hangs up the phone.

She nudges Tony. "Wake up!"

"Ugh," he groans.

"We have to go to work."

"Work? I don't want to," he argues.

"Up! Now!"

"Can't we just stay in bed?"

She smiles, "You would like that, wouldn't you?"

"You know that I would."

"Too bad. We have a murderer to catch."

"What's new?"

"I can think of a few things."

She tosses the covers off, and gets out of bed. She starts to walk away.

"Where are you going?" he calls after her.

"To get a shower."

"I need a shower, and Gibbs won't like it if we're late."

"Then take one."

"How am I supposed to take a shower, if you're in the shower?"

"You could just take one with me."

"Are you sure?"

"You've seen me naked before."

"I know but..."

"But what?"

"You are..."

"I'm going to take a shower, so I'm not late for work. You do whatever you want. If you want to stink all day, that's up to you."

"I stink? What do I smell like?"

"Armpit."

"Gee, thanks."

"If you didn't want to know, you shouldn't have asked," she answers from inside the bathroom.

When they walk into the squad room Gibbs is waiting on them. They stop at their desks, to finds badges, and guns. Ziva stares at the gun, with a sparkle in her eye.

"Let's go. You can tell your gun how much you missed it, after we solve this murder," Gibbs scolds.

"But..."

"Don't worry Ziva, I cleaned it for you."

She smiles, and follows them to the elevator. McGee just stares at her. The doors close, and Gibbs flips the elevator off.

"Speak!" he barks.

No one says anything. He turns, and looks at his youngest agent, "McGee speak. What's on your mind?"

"I think that I am imagining things, at least I hope that I am."

"What things, McNutterButter?" Tony questions.

"She looks..." he trails off.

"Pregnant?" Ziva finishes his thought.

"Yes," McGee nods.

"Probably because she is," Gibbs answers.

"You let her go undercover, knowing she was pregnant?" McGee quizzes.

"No, I didn't know McGee."

"Boss, isn't that something she should have told you?"

"She didn't know."

"She didn't know?" He turns to Ziva, "How could you not know?"

"Because I wasn't, when I left."

"You weren't when you left? You got pregnant while you were undercover? What happened while you were there?"

"We pretended to be married," Tony responds.

"That is not a pretend pregnancy," McGee points.

"No, it's not," Ziva reveals.

All of the color drains from Tim's face. "But... is it... you guys..."

"We what, McGee?" Ziva raises an eyebrow, and steps closer to him. Her proximity makes him nervous.

"Um..." he swallows hard.

"They made so stupid choices. They're having a baby, can we move on now?" Gibbs wonders.

"But boss..."

"McGee we have a crime scene to get to," Gibbs points out.

"Why aren't you angry at them?"

"I am."

"So why are they here?"

"I am not going to fire them, for what Tony refers to as an occupational accident."

"An occupational accident? Your weapon going off accidentally, or tripping while pursuing a criminal, that's an occupational accident. That," he points to Ziva's stomach, "Is not an occupational accident."

"I agree, but we still have jobs to do."

"Right, boss," Tim nods.

"But for future reference, I don't want anymore occupational accidents, coming from anyone," Gibbs clarifies.

"Understood," they mutter in unison.

"Because if there are anymore occupational accidents I am going to have to take action."

"You'll fire us?" Tony guesses.

"He can't do that. It would be discrimination," McGee points out.

"He's right," Ziva adds.

"My way is a little more permanent," he admits.

"Oh, I see," Tony gulps.

"So, uh... are you two going to get married?"

Ziva looks at Tony, who looks to Gibbs. Gibbs looks back at him.

"Don't look at me, he asked you two the question."

"I..." Tony splutters.

"Well, DiNozzo, are you going to, or not?" Gibbs inquires.

"We...I... you should ask her," DiNozzo responds.

McGee looks at Ziva. Ziva smiles at him. "So are you, or not?" McGee wonders.

"Not right now," Ziva responds.

"That isn't really an answer," he points out.

"That's the best I can do," she replies.

"But do you want to?" McGee questions.

"Some days I do."

"And the others?" Tony chimes in.

"I'd like to strangle you," she admits.

"Yeah, you'll have that," Gibbs smiles.

"Can we go now?" Tony tugs at his collar, feeling a tad bit uncomfortable.

Gibbs leans forward, and presses a button. The elevator turns back on. After a few seconds it stops, and the doors open. They get off the elevator. They find Ducky, and Palmer loading up the M.E. van.

"You guys are still here?" Palmer queries.

"We're leaving now," Gibbs answers.

"What is taking you so long?" Jimmy questions.

"McGee had to stop the elevator."

"What for?" Ducky enters the conversation.

"To ask if Tony and Ziva are going to get married," Gibbs answers.

"Why would they get married?" Jimmy furrows his brow.

Gibbs points to Ziva, who is standing at the trunk of the car, loading her bag inside.

"You didn't notice?"

"Notice what? I haven't seen her since she got back."

Ziva slams the trunk closed. She feels all eyes on her. She turns, and looks towards the van.

"What?"

"Oh," Jimmy comments.

"Oh, what, Mr. Palmer?" Ducky probes.

"She's pregnant. So does that mean that..."Palmer trails off. Gibbs simply nods. "Oh," Jimmy sighs.


	28. Compromise

He looks over at her. She sits in bed, next to him. Her lamp illuminates the book in her hand. She balances it on top of her stomach. She doesn't even notice him watching her. The dog lies beside her.

He flips off his lamp. She sees him slide under the covers, out of the corner of her eye. She turns the page in her book. The baby kicks her. She momentarily pauses, and looks at her stomach. Tony lets out a heavy sigh. She ignores him. Five lines later he lets out another sigh. She keeps focused on the book. Six lines later he huffs. She places the book on her lap, and looks over at him.

"What?" she snarls.

"Are you done?"

"No. Do you need something?"

"Yes."

"Not tonight," she tells him.

"Not that."

"Then what do you need?"

"I just want to talk to you."

"About what?"

"How long do you think we have, before shit hits the fan?"

She shrugs, "What are you referring to?"

"How long before Vance finds out?"

"A couple of days."

"You seem sure."

"He's out of town."

"Oh. What do you think is going to happen, when he gets back?"

"I don't know," she replies in frustration.

"Did I make you mad?"

"No. I am just irritated."

"Why? What did I do?"

"The same thing you do every single night."

"What is that?"

"You interrupt me when I am trying to unwind."

"I am sorry. Please continue reading."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because in five minutes you'll roll over, and try to go to sleep. Five minutes after that you will start grumbling, because you can't sleep with the light on. I'll put my book away, even though I am not done reading. I will turn off the light, and I will try to go to sleep. But I won't go to sleep, because then you will start talking."

"I'm sorry. It's just the only time of day I really get to talk to you.""That is not true, and you know it."

"It is too."

"You talk to me all day long."

"But when we're here, in bed, I know that you hear me."

"I hear you."

"Really? I think that you have started to tune me out."

"Maybe if you talked less I would listen closer."

"I'm sorry. I just have a lot to say."

"You do not have to say everything you are thinking, out loud."

"I will try to filter, if it would make you happy."

"It would."

"Are you going to go to sleep now?"

"No."

"I'll stop talking."

"I am not done reading."

"I'm ready to go to sleep."

She grits her teeth. She pulls the pillow out from under his head. She launches it across the room. She takes the blanket folded at the end of the bed, and tosses it on the floor, along with the pillow.

"If you are ready to go to sleep, the couch is available."

He opens his mouth to speak. She wags her finger, "Do not even begin to complain about the couch hurting your back. I suggest that you avoid talking about anything hurting your back, for the next several months. You are not carrying around another human being. I am. She sleeps on my bladder. She kicks me in the ribs. When I stand up she presses against my spine. I never complain about it."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, just go."

"But..."

"No," she shakes her head, and points to the door.

"Ziva?"

"What?" she fumes.

"Please don't go to bed angry at me."

"Why not?"

"It'll give you indigestion."

"No it won't."

"I think we should have stayed put."

"What are you talking about?"

"Yesterday we were fine. Now that we're back in D.C., in this stupid, tiny apartment, we're at each other's throats. I don't like fighting with you."

"What do you suggest we do about that?"

"Get a bigger place."

"A bigger apartment?"

"No, I think the thick city air is getting to us. We need a place, with a backyard."

"You want to move to the suburbs?"

"Yes."

"That requires commuting. You hate commuting. You hate being stuck in traffic. You groan, and complain the whole way."

"I'll let you drive."

"Then you will criticize my driving the whole way."

"Ziva we don't have much of a choice. It's either argue fifteen minutes a day, to and from work; or bicker all day. I would prefer the former. We are having a baby. We can't argue about everything, all the time. It's not good for her. It's not good for you. When she gets her we are going to be stressed enough, as it is.""You want to move, before she gets here?"

"Yeah."

"You don't think that moving will be stressful? It's the middle of the summer. I am not going to be much help. Moving would require us both to get rid of our apartments. We will have to pack and move stuff, from two apartments. Don't forget, we still have to get everything for the baby."

"I'll take care of it."

"You'll take care of it? When? In your spare time? Between the time you come home from work, and the time you go back to work? Oh, wait, that is when you sleep. You don't have that much spare time."

"Ziva just trust me."

"I trust you."

"So what's the problem?"

"Everything is changing, so fast. I just, I don't know if I am ready, or not."

"Of course you are."

"What if I'm not?"

"Ziva you are going to be amazing."

"But..."

"I'll take care of everything, I promise."

"I don't think that it is humanly possible."

"I will need you to do one thing for me."

"And what is that?"

"Make me lemonade."

"Why do you like my lemonade so much? It's powder, from a can, mixed with water. There isn't anything special about it."

"It's the way you make it."

"With a wooden spoon?" she raises an eyebrow.

"With love," he answers.


	29. Just A Little Change

She sits in her new house. She finds herself in the nursery, holding her new baby. She stares at the baby, in awe. Down the hall she hears the dryer buzz.

"I got it," he calls out.

She sighs in relief. She hears footsteps coming towards her. A familiar figure stops in the doorway. She smiles, with tired eyes.

He steps into the nursery.

"I would have stopped by sooner, but I wanted to give the two of you a chance to get to know her."

"I am glad that you stopped by. There is something I would like to discuss with you."

"May I?"

She looks down at the bundle of pink. A pink blanket, and hat. The clothes underneath, pink too. She had never really cared much for pink, and now it seemed to be taking over her life. Surprisingly, she didn't mind. Her whole world had changed. The change was delivered in a seven pound nine ounce package, with dark blue eyes, and a head full of jet black hair. She simply nods, and allows him to take her.

He studies the baby. A perfect combination, of Tony, and Ziva. She was going to be a heartbreaker. She would give her father a run for his money. He holds the sleeping baby in his arms.

"It's been a long time since I've held a newborn," he admits.

"I know."

He looks at Ziva, "You look tired."

"I haven't slept in days," she admits.

"Tony isn't helping?"

"He is."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I just can't sleep."

"Can't? Or won't?"

"I don't want to take my eyes off her."

"Ziva she isn't going to go anywhere."

"I don't want to miss anything, Gibbs."

"You can't possibly be there for every single important moment in her life."

"I want to be."

"But you can't. Why don't you go lay down? I can watch her."

"I..."

"You didn't think that you were going to be so attached, did you?"

"I thought that it would be easier."

"Nope. It never gets any easier, either."

"I don't want her out of my sight. I am acting complete insane."

"That tends to happen, when you have a baby."

"I just love her, so much."

"More than you thought that you could?"

"More than I thought was possible, for anyone."

"Having a child changes everything."

"I see that, now."

"What was it that you wanted to talk to me about?"

"How am I supposed to leave her?"

"You will. One day you'll wake up, and you'll know that you can leave her."

"I don't want to."

"You will have to, eventually."

"Gibbs?"

"Huh?"

"I want to stay home with her."

"Does Tony know?"

"I haven't told him yet. He has been under a lot of stress. We had the move, and then the baby, and..."

"You have to tell him."

"Now isn't a good time. We just bought a house, and had a new baby."

"You don't want to come back?"

"I'm not saying that I will never want to come back. I just don't want to come back right now."

"You have six weeks, or more."

"I am going to need more time. I never thought that I would. I thought I would have her, and be ready to go back to work. I love my job."

"But you love your baby, more?"

"I thought that I would want to go back to work. I thought I would have her, and spend a few weeks with her. Then, I would be more than ready to go back to work."

"Maybe you will."

"I just want to sit around, and stare at her, all day."

"I wish that I could tell you that it gets old."

"It doesn't?"

"Sometimes I would go into Kelly's room, and just watch her sleep."

"When she was a baby?"

"No, she wasn't a baby."

"Do you think that I am going to want to come back, in a few weeks?"

"You will, if you don't get some rest."

"How am I supposed to rest?"

"Ziva, you have a partner. It is his responsibility, too."

"I know that, but..."

"He's not you?"

"I don't want her to..."

"Like him better than she likes you?"

"Listen to me. I sound like a crazy person."

"No, you sound like someone who just had a baby."

"She's perfect."

"So did the two of you settle on a name, or not?"

"Cadence Abigail. He hasn't agreed to that yet, but I already had it put on her birth certificate."

"You did give birth to her, I think that you have the final say."

"I am glad that you agree."

"Ziva?"

"Yes, Gibbs?"

"Are you planning on having anymore babies, in the near future?"

"No. Not for at least five years, if at all. Why?"

"Maybe you should just take a leave of absence. Then, you won't lose your spot on the team."

"You would give my spot away?"

"I wouldn't, but you know how Vance is."

"Yes, I do."

"For the record, I want you back. I hope that you take your six weeks, and come back."

"But?"

"The parent in me knows better. You want more time, and that is understandable. Time is something we can never get back."

"I don't want to take too much time. I do want to come back, but... not right now. I don't want to leave her. We have already hired a nanny, but I don't want her to be raised by a nanny."

"That's your choice."

She looks at the precious baby in his arms. He carefully places her in the crib.

"What is your advice?"

"Sleep while she sleeps."

"About how much time to take off," she clarifies.

"A year. I don't think that six months will be enough time. By the end of a year, you will be ready to come back. You will appreciate your time away from her. You'll appreciate your time with her, more, too."

"And you're ok with that?"

"As long as I know you're coming back."

"I promise."

"One more thing."

"What's that?"

"Go get some rest."

"But," she begins to protest.

He cuts her off, "I'll take the first watch."


End file.
